#creative-writing

By Briar Rose Toyoshiba How you hold your head up high And flick your hair out of your sea filled eyes And how your charming smile comes so naturally, I don’t understand.  I don’t understand you. Or your graceful hands, And your calculated moves, And how you float across the room. I don’t get it.  I’m rough,  And flat And literal.  I don’t cary charm  Or grace.  So why oh…

There are moments when a writer says that they ‘Need’ something. And then there are the things that we all simply ‘Want’. I’m going to break down the things that should be in both categories, beginning with: What a writer Wants. The basic difference between ‘Wants’ and Needs’ is simple. The ‘Needs’ are the things that a writer cannot succeed without to be a writer. Not to be an author or even to…

There is a silence

that fills the space between us

like a gas that expands without permission,

breathing where words should be.

You ask, How was your day?

and I say, Fine.

But it’s not.

It never is,

and it never will be,

because in that single word

lives everything I don’t want to burden you with:

the crack in my chest

that widens every time you leave,

the days spent watching shadows

crawl across the walls

like old regrets.

I watch you,

but I never ask,

Are you alright?

because I know the answer will break

in places neither of us can fix.

I hold my tongue,

and it wraps around my throat

like a vine,

silent and tightening.

We sit,

drinking tea that’s gone cold,

our eyes moving past each other,

finding refuge in the cracks of the room,

in the dust that has gathered

on what we no longer touch.

When you say goodbye,

your lips form the shape of it

but the sound is hollow,

like a bell that has forgotten

its own resonance.

And I am left with all that wasn’t said—

the weight of the unsaid,

the absence between us

that swallows the air,

that stretches