Miss Riddle
Bio
Stories (13/0)
Meticulous Magic
As the raven walks up to the Phoenix, delicately, with its head bowed in armoured amusement; carrying curious questions. Why would you allow yourself to die over and over again. You, just as I, are a messenger. We behold power not known to this world, and yet you die for them. Only to come back to put forth majesticy to die again. How can you do that for them?
By Miss Riddle11 months ago in Poets
Depression
It's not cowardly. It doesn't make you a horrible person for experiencing it. It does not make you weak. In fact, having depression and battling it as strong as you are makes you a fighter. A warrior. A magician. Cause to play with the alchemy of management to the disarray that exists in your mind is some real magic. Just making it out of bed some days when it feels like your whole world is caving in, and you can't stop the tears from coming, and you're sure this is the spell that's going to take you is fucking magic.
By Miss Riddle7 years ago in Psyche
Refuted Reasoning
I once was called one of God's favourite children Lighting up an influence of energy within my cut and bruised skin Looking within bringing the reign and fight back to the surface of the battle grounds that once we're tall buildings; filled with dreams and future lives, just waiting to be lived.
By Miss Riddle7 years ago in Poets