there, in each picture
tall, snow-capped - you watched us laugh
now, watch me crumble
About the Creator
Savannah Sveta
Once in a while, there are words in my head that feel like magic. The rest of the time, I'm just imitating myself.
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Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
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Confessions of an Empath
The birds are chirping, and the sun is shining in a cloudless July sky. The vibrancy promises a beautiful day, but the cooing of the Mourning Dove perched on the powerlines seems to be more fitting than the lively songs of the robin flitting through the trees. The melancholic calls of the dove cloak the world in a sadness that hangs like tattered drapes.
By Alyssa Nicolea day ago in Confessions
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