~ twixx ~

An ancient wilderness spirit and a child.

fingers entwined in hers, i walk a dirt path mapped out by years of footsteps before me.

when my eyes quiver open, they are clouded with a thousand years of slumber's remnant

it is in the cooling crest of the essence of autumn that to the edge of the forest i venture to roam

I’m tired. Tired of water, tired of remembering, tired of everything.

on this night, a golden-haired boy sat cradled in the embracing arms of three sturdy tree branches

a dragon OC of mine

if i were made of paper, i'd write you love letters in my skin

but that is not right

a short dialogue-only story i made from a pinterest writing prompt

a poem about being an idea

what is silence to you?