Maranda Quinn

Words bloom like wildflowers in the garden of my heart , each pedal a syllable my mouth could never express.🩷31, totally blind, lover of poetry and prose, trying to expand my short story skills, recovering addict/possible trigger warnings!

https://www.facebook.com/xxirannaxx?mibextid=lqqj4d

497

Writings

118

Followers

228

Following

Maranda Quinn

https://www.facebook.com/xxirannaxx?mibextid=lqqj4d

497

Writings

118

Followers

228

Following

That Ass So Fat

Maranda Quinn

1 min read

That ass so fat, it look like you smuggling two babies in them jeans. I know you gettin’ child support on that ass.

I whip my head around and glare at him, eyes wide. “The fuck you just say?”

I rear back, hand cocked, ready to slap the stupid out of him.

He screams like a little girl and dives behind the couch. “Don’t hurt me, baby! I was just practicing my stand-up!”

He looks pitiful peeking ...

Humour

Goodbye, Old House.

Maranda Quinn

1 min read

Oh, old house, I still remember

Running through your halls.

Eight years old with skinned-up knees,

You’d catch me when I’d fall.

You heard me laugh, you heard me cry—

Old house, you saw it all.

You watched when Mom and Dad would fight,

You held me through the longest nights.

You watched me grow and felt me run,

standing tall beneath the sun.

Then one day, we had to go.

I whispered you a soft goo...

Poetry

Scrub Away

Maranda Quinn

1 min read

I fold paper boats to stay afloat,

setting them adrift in the sink,

beside a sponge that’s lost its shape

and dreams I’ve rinsed down the drain.

Lemon-scented silence

clings to everything I touch.

The cleaner the floor,

the emptier the room.

Pine-Sol and tears,

poured slow into a bucket

too full to lift anymore.

Each boat carries a piece of me

I couldn’t bear to look at.

They sag with the weig...

Poetry

Drama

Douche Bag Darrell

Maranda Quinn

3 min read

I’d only been at work for eleven minutes, and the day was already off to a shitty start. First, my alarm didn’t go off. Second, my car wouldn’t start. My husband wasn’t home, so I had to call an Uber. Third, Douche Bag Darrell came barreling out the double doors as I was rushing inside and made me spill hot coffee on my white blouse. I gave him the middle finger, but I don’t think he saw. Too bad....

Humour

Drama

Inner Turmoil

Maranda Quinn

1 min read

“Are you fucking crazy?” Brain asked, clearly baffled.

Heart sighed. “Yes, Brain. Yes, I am. Crazy in love.”

“What’s there to love?” Brain snapped, already losing her patience. “He’s an idiot.”

Heart thumped in protest. “We’ve been over this, Brain. I know he’s not perfect, but I love him.”

“Sometimes love isn’t enough, Heart.”

“But it can be,” Heart argued. “Love’s supposed to be messy somet...

Humour

Romance

Haiku: What Is Love?

Maranda Quinn

1 min read

What is love, if not

suffering in beauty‘s mask?

Only time reveals.

Once, I dreamed in white.

Love and laughter, Flowers tossed.

Forever was ours.

III

That dream bled to black,

Mascara tears traced their paths.

Ashes in the veil.

Life without your touch

crashes through me, wave on wave,

from a fractured sea.

What is love, if not

death silently waiting to

f...

Poetry

Romance

The Ache Of Wishing

Maranda Quinn

1 min read

A trail of lace strewn through the hall,

a torso bruised with lipstick kisses,

bare skin drowning in satin sheets,

like dusk slipping into the throat of night.

Your fingers draw circles, slow and patient,

along the wounds of my broken body.

Oh, how I long to heal beneath

the warmth of your gasping silhouette.

Your breath pools in the curve of my neck.

You’ve locked my heart in a cage

fashio...

Poetry

Romance

I Have Way Too Much Fun On Reddit.

Maranda Quinn

2 min read

This is the post I just left on r/writingcirclejerk. As sad as it is to say… I literally laughed at myself so hard, I cried. Yes… I’m a loser. I know. Lol.

————

I have managed to transcend the English language and fulfill my life‘s purpose. I am sharing this literary masterpiece with you in hopes that you’ll resist the overwhelming urge to publish it as your own.

*******

Before I all...

Humour

Curiosity Kills The Cat

Maranda Quinn

1 min read

As I finally reached the bottom of the steps and placed one foot on the basement floor, the floorboard shifted beneath me. It didn’t creak like old wood normally does. It groaned. An eerie, for boating sound. Almost like a warning. Strange, considering this house was over two hundred years old and not a single stair had made a sound. But the moment I stepped onto the basement floor, it spoke. Omin...

Wrong Place, Right Time

Maranda Quinn

10 min read

I think it’s safe to say most of us have gotten that same old lecture from our parents at some point or another.

Don’t marry young. Keep it in your pants. Don’t get pregnant.

You know the spiel.

Well… turns out, the smartest thing we can do is actually listen. Because they were right.

But before we get to that, let’s rewind a bit.

Here’s a good spot: I was 18 years old and convinced I had an ent...

Crime

Drama