in wherever works for you
"Is Sophia alright?"
"Her fever's still quite high, I don't really know how she'll turn out..."
"Poor woman. I suppose she's still having those nightmares?"
"Hallucinations. And yes, she's still got them."
"You know, she always did mutter to herself a lot around the house. About some name...what was it...something that sounded old, like from the Bible..."
"Jericho?"
"Something like that, yes. Not Joshua...Josiah! That was it. Josiah. It always struck me as, you know, insane-like..."
"Maybe."
Maybe.
Maybe they're right,
maybe I am
insane.
That word
is so cruel,
so frightening.
The things you
think of
when you hear
that word,
are so scary,
so vivid,
so real.
But my
insanity
is not.
Maybe,
real in one sense,
but it shows me
things.
What it is
to drown in still water,
to dance a jig of life,
to be trapped under ice,
to know a ghost is with you.
And it shows me
Josiah.
Insanity
is real,
but not
mine.
Mine is real
because it
exits,
but that's
where its reality
ends.
Josiah's reality
is like that too.
-Olivia Asta
See more stories by {Olivia Asta}
suberb. One thing I like is
suberb.
One thing I like is that you leave us slobbering for more (well.. not slobbering... but... i dunno bear with me) and then give it to us. This is the kind of story/ poem that I really enjoy. Your writing is wonderful and gets me thinking. And now I believe we have some names...
bahaha.
great! The only thing I
great! The only thing I would say now is make your lines longer, so it will flow a bit better. Other than that, fantastic!
"I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my Ship."
-Louisa May Alcott
Well, I think that this is a
Well, I think that this is a more free-verse poem, and in free verse you don't need rhyme. It flows well enough. It's nice and choppy and it's supposed to be that way. If she were writing a different type of poem instead of free verse, I would agree.