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Aurora K.

Aurora K.

I’m a 17 year old with way too many commitment issues for any long writing, but too many ideas for nothing at all. 🤜🤛

15
Writings
0
Followers
0
Following
Aurora K.

Aurora K.

I’m a 17 year old with way too many commitment issues for any long writing, but too many ideas for nothing at all. 🤜🤛

15
Writings
0
Followers
0
Following
messy heart

Aurora K.

1 min read

piled clothes and stacked plates

dusty dresser and closed blinds

stale air

still

i stare at my messy room

from my crumb filled sheets

and feel nothing at all

there is no shame

there is no sadness

there is no emotion at all

a reflection

of my mind my heart...

Poetry

2
The Magic of Love

Aurora K.

2 min read

“I think I just met the happiest person in the world!”

Cassandra slammed into the small magic shop in her usual whirlwind of black tulle, her impressively tall heels clacking loudly against the stone floors.

“Hey, Ro did you hear me? Rowena? Where are you anyway?” Cassandra called, narrowly avoiding a row of crystal balls with her massive skirts.

Right on cue, a head of fiery red curls popped up f...

Humour

Fantasy

2
the surface of sanity

Aurora K.

1 min read

fingers tap restlessly,

nail beds bitten to the quick.

my heart pounds like a drum against my ribs,

too-hard, too-fast, too-afraid

of the worries threatening to pull me under.

i could drown in this fear,

this unspeakable irrationality.

conversations i’ve never had, scenarios i’ve only imagined,

overwhelm my sense of sanity,

overwhelm my sense of safety.

i crave only a moment

a single moment

of p...

Poetry

1
colorful lies of colorless love

Aurora K.

1 min read

Where there used to be Color, there is nothing but black and white.

On a good day it is:

The black of her hair, the black of her coffee, the black of her words on a page.

The white of her smile, the white of her sheets, the white of her fingers in mine.

On a not so good day there is only:

The black of her veins, the black of her eyes, the black of her cutting words.

The white of her pills, the whi...

Romance

Poetry

1
3
delusions; intrusions

Aurora K.

1 min read

Dear Diary,

I think someone is following me. I keep feeling like somebody’s watching me, and I’m pretty sure someone followed me home today. Should I tell someone or is it all in my head?


Dear Diary,

It happened again and I’m pretty sure I have to tell someone. That’s what people do in these kinds of situations, at least I think.


Dear Diary,

My mom thinks I’m lying, telling me I’m delusional ...

Horror

2
8
mistakes were made

Aurora K.

1 min read

When the girl looked in the mirror she always wanted to cry.


Her hair was too short, her jaw too square, her chin bristled and rough. Her body was flat and angular and the weight between her legs made her want to scramble out of her skin.

This was not her body, not who she was meant to be. This was a mistake; she was a mistake. God, she was going to throw up.

She just wished someone would listen ...

Horror

2
11
to hold to hurt

Aurora K.

1 min read

the hands wipe my tears

and hold my face

hug my body

in warm embrace


the hands cut me off

and slam the door too loud

wave wildly, aggressively

burn like a burial shroud


in the end

the hands that harm

are the hands that flirt

the hands that hold

are the hands that hurt...

Poetry

Romance

1
2
inner beauty

Aurora K.

1 min read

As he ages, his hair grows white and his hands calloused with work, but his heart remains pure and loving as only a father’s could be....

Poetry

4
/ˈbrāv(ə)rē/

Aurora K.

1 min read

When I think of bravery I think of knights, fighting dragons and saving princesses.


[i see a girl shove away her boyfriend with tears in her eyes and bruises on her wrists]


When I think of bravery I think of kings, conquering lands and ruling countries.


[i see a woman at the hospital with a pregnant belly and no one to hold her hand]


When I think of bravery I think of wizards, casting spells a...

Poetry

7
8:52 A.M.

Aurora K.

1 min read

The startling cry fills the too full room, already brimming with heaving breaths and panting screams and a mother’s smile.

The baby, a girl, a 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭, screams her newborn life for the world to hear, echoing in the room, in her heart.

She’s small and squealing and perfect, eyes already scrunched closed with the exhaustion of surviving.

It’s 8:52 A.M. and the young mother knew her life had change...

1