I am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps in me; all day I feel it’s feathery turning, it’s malignity-Slyvia Plath The moonlight watched over the luminous lake as the two silhouettes stood under the stars. He was masked for his identity could not be revealed to possible onlookers especially when his companion was a…
Friday Floral Favourites
1. First of Pjs, comfy socks and coffee. I don’t know about you but my favourite part of the day. Without coffee and Netflix I have no motivation to get up and have not been a morning person. These pjs are a combination of Disney store bambi pj bottoms (2 years ago) and lose primark…
Spring Favourites
Hey guys, so I’ve realised I haven’t posted a typical ‘blog post’ in a while and the favourites have been slowly building, especially with life changes and beautiful sun coming out again. In this post, I have selected a variety of beauty, books and TV show favourites so let’s get started because I can’t wait…
Writing Weekends
My Dear Mai, Father has become suspicious of our correspondence again so this will be my last letter for a while. He gives talks of my betrothal to this King Lucas of WiccaWood-for where on earth is that? I certainly haven’t heard of before, Father only names the four kingdoms I am to rule, strangely…
Why I Write
Ever since I was little, when mum used to read me stories to bed until I could read, I have always wanted to write. Even when I could read, I insisted mum could keep on reading me to sleep because I loved being transported to another world. When I actually learnt to read, through the…
Writing Weekends
She was a mystery wrapped up in the classic novels of the past, buried in books and loaded with coffee. Nobody knew her name, only her favourite book. She dreamed of castle on the clouds, righteous men, hovercars and talking animals. She questioned her purpose in this life, what she would achieve and how everyone…
Writing Weekends :)
1814 The Caribbean The wind felt different that day. Her candle flickered in the velvet night. The shadows had begun dancing and twisting around her resting body. Images ran through her mind. Treasure. Skull. Island. Love. Betrayal. Vivid as the sun yet dull as smoke. “Wake up miss! We’re almost there, your father wants you…
Writing Weekends :)
“Clary, c’mon! Simon’s here for you!” “Mom! Don’t need to let the whole neighbourhood know!” Clary shouted down the stairs tying up her golden sunset hair. “Love you!” “Love you too!” Was her hair better up or down? Everything she did looked wrong. She grabbed her hoodie off the full body mirror, catching a glimpse…
My Bloody Valentine
13th February 1817 I must submit myself. I must comply with what the duke of my heart requests of me. A painful intercourse that results in blood. Blood all on the sheets and duvet. The pain, oh the pain. He thinks I squeal out of pleasure, but I scream of agony. “Oh my sweet Duchess,”…
Writing Weekends
The Mirror I stare into those hollow glass eyes Are they hers or are they mine? Feeling empty with nothing to live for No energy of life worth living She is not real anymore But a ghost girl A line drawing A line drawing, she practices every day and night A tattoo, Her mark Or…
Writing Weekends :)
“Did you love her?” “Who?” “The girl in the photograph, you look happy, free…what happened?” A distant flash of pain scored his face before returning to the wine. Corked. White. Chardonnay. She mentioned it was her favourite before meeting. He looked across to her darting chocolate eyes over his photos by the table. “Anyway, this…
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