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.
I leave this world as ignorant as when I came into it, my hands empty, my heart full. I have no answers, only questions, no certainties, only doubts. The fear of death has been my most loyal companion, the cry of
A misbelief breaks into rags. Still I dream of some gods on black pages piecing together the words of light. The rains come in the cage of tears, voicelessly. Striated muscles of splintered faith go to cramps birthing the avatar
Remembering the days of old, when father raked the leaves of Golden, yellow, brown and orange Jumping into the huge crisp pile, I tossed them all about As my father raked them on top of me I would creep out