Hi there. I am Elli. I actually nicknamed myself Elli. I am 21 and dreading turning another year older by November. I write brain farts, rants, poems and sometimes, just sometimes, short stories. I fill silences with words and kill time with words. I read, listen, and write. My whole being revolves around literature – how I perceive and express it. I am a child of the bloody/inky pen.
It was a freak accident of epithelium under anaesthesia. You place a window on to a hollow brain. The money makes the monkey out of you. A green light blocks the fish, your memory, to swim in black thoughts. The
Kick stand up at eight, two lane west to set me free Throttle through the gears, now it’s just Ester and me Relax down into the machine, the breeze blowing across my face Worry and troubles disappear, my mind is
Vane glorious and absolutistic, though I defiantly, cavalierly, and blithely attest Yukon bet your (laugh-in) sweet bippy mine acidic breast houses anarchic, anti-poetic ballistic, barbaric, and bubonic cannibalistic demons within thy safely guarded Pandora chest atomic cesium clock timed to