gigglegirl88

I am a woman. I am an inferno, a tempest, the eye of a hurricane. When I wake up in the morning, I look perpetually constipated. My hair is unruly about 100% of the time. My breasts aren't quite the same size. I am a woman. I am a woman. I chew my lower lip when I'm nervous, And run my hands through my hair when agitated. I sing too much and laugh too loudly. Anxiety and I are old friends. I am a woman. I am a woman. I arm myself with books and wield words as weapons, And I feel more when I read than I ever have In a real world, where I can be touched. I have never made love, but I've had sex. I am a woman. I am a woman. When I was very yo

Broken people don't need to be fixed        they need to be loved

I've fallen in love, once.           Fell in love with the gravel of your voice, the poetry in your words, the soft lilting cadence of your vocal           folds, the way you laughed with everything you had, and never let any chances pass you by.                   I loved you in the way I could never love myself. I loved your every nuance, every nook and                   cranny, the nape of your neck, the hint of baby fat around your middle, the curious tilt of your                   head. Your tumultuous hair, unruly until the day you cut it, the free spirit of your life, the                   confidence of your gait, the inferno of y

Writing has always been my "shoulder to cry on", the one ability I possessed that I could always rely on. But I kept it hidden, terrified that if people read my ideas, they wouldn't see them as wonderful as I saw them. Even when I was titled "The Wow Word Queen" in third grade, I continued to cover up my dream of being an author, and refused to come out of that hole I'd dug for myself--that I would never be good enough. One day, without telling me, my best friend took one of my pieces and entered it in a contest. I didn't know until later, when he returned it with a letter saying "1st Place Winner". At first, I was utterly bewildered, the ev

Thank you for making my youngest sister cry, just because you didn't like what she was eating. Because, obviously, you get to regulate what she eats after not being home any day but holidays for the last six years. Thank you for making my other sister hate being in this house even more so than she already does. Because her comfortableness and want to ever see us again can never compare to your want to be in power. Thank you for not letting me be pansexual. Because, that's obviously your call. Always has been. Thank you for splattering my book with coffee. I love having damaged goods. I love my life's work, my hopes, dreams, aspiration, an

It had felt like forever since they had first met that fateful day in the park... And he couldn't be happier. True, his life had gotten more... complicated with her around but... he didn't have a single regret when it came to the smaller female. Not one. She was someone very special to him, someone he couldn't imagine a world without. He didn't think he could feel this way, not ever in his life, but here he was. Hell, he hadn't even felt this way about Liz before! Sure, he'd loved her with all his heart but... that couldn't even compare to what he felt for this petite hybrid who had invaded his life like a hurricane, danced through it like m

 I entered my angst ridden, rebellious teenager stages relatively early in life; I was rather advanced as a child, full of myself to worryingly extreme levels, and, henceforth, sculpted by the life situation I was given to be a sassy little snot. The majority of my lengthy life has been spent attempting to outsmart authority figures at every twist and turn, mostly for chuckles, but occasionally for a point I had to prove. Let’s just say I had completely unfounded condescension for people who were trying to teach me during grade school and much of middle school. Eventually, however, I mellowed out. Somewhat. My parents are very anti-an

Although I have a funny way of expressing myself, I am easily pleased by life as a whole. My name is K.C., which is short for my first and last name, and I am a natural ginger. Puns amuse me, although I am absolutely rubbish at executing them. Actually, I’m rubbish at a lot of things, but I like to say I’m not. I am the ultimate geek: rugby, books, Supernatural, Sherlock, Doctor Who, Harry Potter, Merlin--the whole spiffy rigmarole, and I often find myself at the center of it. I have a list of words I adore and try to find ways to sneak into conversations, like swell, stellar, skulduggery, soliloquy, persnickety, nifty, and spiff

Envy people. Watch their movements, their flaws, their perfect imperfections. Admire those people. Memorize those people. Write about them. Elaborate upon the crinkles around their azure oculars, the parentheses that curl invitingly around the quirk of their lips, the glowing of ivory skin, the soft freckles dusted across their shoulders like stardust, the cascading tresses of curls down their back. Dicuss the twinkle that appears in their eye when they talk about their passions, the lilting cadence of their voice as they laugh, the snide expression they wear when they become defensive. Delete your writing. It was never up to par, anyway. Try