Little Miss Hobbs, Pt. V

Footsteps crumbled gravel beneath two sets of heels, one clumsy and heavy, the other gentle and full of grace. You can guess which ones were hers. I am ashamed to say the other were mine. If not for blessed light pollution, it might have been pitch black on the side of that mountain... I guess that's... Continue Reading →

Why…

I've shown my hand And you took it in yours, folded in your warmth   On this cliff I stand Ready for weather or sword Bare and bearing the third cord   This happens every time it's more than I can afford sleeves repeatedly ripped and worn   Love is mine just know you are... Continue Reading →

Little Miss Hobbs, Pt. II

Whatever Little Miss Hobbs may be, whether angel or human (though I have expressed to you that she is, in fact, human) she always desired the finer things in life. Such cliché manners of describing cliché characters, I know, but as I said, this is not of fictitious origin. Last I met her, we were... Continue Reading →

Little Miss Hobbs, Pt. I

Little Miss Hobbs was a young lady, short of stature, yet mind and heart inexpressibly vast and beyond compare. I daresay this character type is not rare in legends and myths where exaggeration and aggrandizement are strewn about in rife, and often haphazardly. But who said this was legend, myth, fantasy, or any other sort... Continue Reading →

Place of Petrichor, Pt. II

"The raindrops address the page where my heart was meant to lay..." This is a line I've been holding onto for literally a few years. It can be seen in one of my posts, Place of Petrichor, and usually comes up whenever there is rain and I feel inspired, but I can't quite verbalize the quaking... Continue Reading →

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