Margaret Sok

I fear writing is all that can cure the emptiness of my heart

803

Writings

175

Followers

Following

Margaret Sok

I fear writing is all that can cure the emptiness of my heart

803

Writings

175

Followers

Following

Too Much Peace

Margaret Sok

1 min read

I sit on the deck,

The warmth of the sun

Burning all worries away…until

The breeze brings forth speckles of dust

_You are having too much peace_, my head tells me.

_Go clean the dusty windows_.

I try to ignore my thoughts,

Closing my eyes

Focusing on the singing birds…until

I feel a bug crawling on my wrist

_You are having too much peace,_ my head says.

_Do you feel the weight around your ...

Poetry

An Interesting Meet up

Margaret Sok

1 min read

I sneak into the cave, like a wrath, quiet and invisible…until a rock rolls from beneath my feet.

I feel the coldness of a blade at my throat. I freeze.

“And who are you?” A low voice asks from a man, hidden from my view.

I swallow. “Just a girl on a bit of a quest,” I respond.

“Hmm,” the man replies.

I try to kick him, but his grip is too strong.

“Lets skip the pleasentries, shall we? You a...

A Wavering Confession

Margaret Sok

1 min read

I look into his blue eyes, so similar to the water we are seated before. Waves wash upon the shore, bringing small pieces of sand and dragging more beneath its depths.

I’m so near him, I can smell his wavering scent of ocean mist and a lingering confession.

I observe him as he looks in the distance and I can tell he wants to leave.

“Say it,” I muttered. My heart began to beat faster as it dropp...

Curiosity Killed The Cat

Margaret Sok

1 min read

Once a cat, small and speckled black and white, entered her barn she was meant to keep clean of mice.

She roamed the stalls where the horses neighed and jumped upon beams, so high, she could see all the livestock.

Sometimes, when she tired, she’d sleep on the soft hay and dream of catching mice and birds.

One day, when the sun rose, the cat awoke, yawning and stretching. She walked lazily arou...

How To Find Roses In The Wild

Margaret Sok

1 min read

How to find roses in the wild:

1. Never expect to find them

2. They flourish in the soft rays of the sun

3. Be wary of the creatures that pay with their petals

Never expect to find roses

When daisies and pansies

Sway in the fields.

Roses flourish in the sun’s rays,

In the golden glow

Of warmth and glee.

Be wary of those who pay

With the petals of roses,

For they bite like thorns....

Liar.

Margaret Sok

1 min read

I run into the brewing storm

With blood running down my hands

From the prick of rose thorns,

From the man who promised a wedding band.

_Liar_.

The clouds cover the skies.

Rain pours in tears,

Blurring my eyes

Of your clear shot lies.

_Liar_.

Thunder rolls and lightning strikes

As my heart breaks,

Like petals of flowers I used to like.

How long will this betrayal pierce and ache!

_Liar!_...

Poetry

Robins

Margaret Sok

1 min read

This grieving must come to an end.

The warm sun, with its bright gentle rays, casts its glory upon my pale, sullen skin.

It reminds me of when I was happy with her—_stop, Iris_, I tell myself.

I revert my focus back on the calm morning, with a small breeze tickling my hair and the slight scent of wild roses growing from Mother’s garden—_Iris, don’t even think_—

I miss her.

I miss Mother.

I m...

An Insulting Walk

Margaret Sok

1 min read

“Your jokes are so unlaughable, you’d be dead before anyone would laugh at their plainness,” Mina said with a scowl as she walked beside Zane.

Zane smiled at her lame insult. “And you’d be dead before anyone could even recognize you insulting them with your poor _insults_,” he bit back with a grin.

Mina rolled her eyes, walking in front of him.

The two were stuck together on this quest, the que...

Hypocrites

Margaret Sok

1 min read

The letter’s writing was clean and pristine, almost too perfect to be written by a human’s hand.

_Dear Outsiders,_

_We do not wish to interact._

The so-called ‘Outsiders’ stared at the letter in confusion, for in the bushes nearby, a human-made camera was facing them, tracking their every move....

What Could’ve Been

Margaret Sok

1 min read

The time of _what could’ve been_ has passed,

Even after wishing it’ll eternally last.

No more chances will come

Where we will be one.

The rain will now only ever be rain—

the soft pitter patter of past’s pain.

Days will never be brightened;

My heart forever tightened.

_What could’ve been_ is lost…

But it’s only me that endures the cost....

Poetry