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Weekly Contest #277
TW: Suicide and self-harm, sexual violence, mental health and substance abuse.14. I was 14 when he looked at me. When he eyed me down as if I was an object to devour, to indulge in. As if he had the right, as if he was deserving of regarding me. His eyes flared like a demon from hell, burning, smoldering my skin with his dirty glare. My soul tainted in disgust, ashamed to parade my body, to believe for even a second I could step out of the confines made of cotton and silk and simply be. I wonder if his wife knows. If she attests to his actio...
Weekly Contest #275
It left a rose today. A scarlet tone of bloody red dried and withering. Not dead, yet not quite alive either. It has been weeks, almost months since this soul-stirring presence of another being in my home has made itself known. I lift the rose into my hands, the thorns cut and gone as per usual. The petals feel worn out between my fingers, an eerie texture in and of itself, yet I relish the feeling it brings me. My mother's skin was the same; soft and delicate yet indicating signs of old age, a testimony of the death that would soon befall h...
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