Posts tagged creative fiction

If Today Was My Last Day



If Today Was My Last Day

If today was my last day on this earth and all bets were off.

I wouldn’t waste a single minute but neither would I want to rush it all till the end were my heart stops beating.

I would see my family and thank them for every little thing I forgot to appreciate in the normal stressful days.

I would call up my circle of friends and have one last drink with them on my treat, I would let the silence do the talking.

I would seek out old lovers and foes, tell them all the things I never got to say and hope we could find some peace.

I would write one last song and hope for a bestseller like I always dreamed of, never mind those couldn’t believe.

I would try to find some closure in it all, predict and chant one last meaningful quote for my legacy to hold.

If I was out of hours and out of chances, if only one last try remained.

I would take my girl and take her for one last dance under the blankets, tell her that she was the one and only for me.

I would tell my girl to never forget me but never to forget to live her life, because in the end that’s all we have.

I would write one last letter with the intention of thanking all the people who I have had the pleasure of in my life.

I would raise a glass to the sky and toast to the fallen people who I would soon be joining in some place new.

At the end of the day I would tell them all to go home, let my girl stay and watch the sun go down together one last time.

I would say my goodbyes and ask her to leave me be, I would sit with my throughs and think back while waiting for death to take my hand.

I would do it all of this if today was my last day, I wonder what you would do? If today was your last day?

(Header Image: unsplash.com)

Thank You For The Scar


ecririons_post4I am cold, wet and dripping from recent shower, as I stand here, looking at myself in the foggy mirror.

I feel the lust to take a good look at myself, glaze and view my scars from over the years.

These scars are not the ones under my chain or the long one on my right leg, they are ones I can see in my eyes.

The ones none visible to the naked eye, yet the ones that run deepest and left the most damage.

However theses scars should not be hidden in shame, after all they are the ones that makes me who I am.

As I stand here looking at these scars I think about the people who caused them, not with hate but with a desire to thank.

I think about the friend from the dark ages who sparked a lust but created a nightmare, she was the first and the hardest fall.

I wish to thank her for destroying me, only for me to be rebuilt with a greater and wider vision.

I will never forget the girl who had me chasing her on and off for so long, that even we can’t quite agree on how the story goes.

I want to thank her for teaching me a lesson on behavior and let her know, she has an eternity place in my heart.

Someday I’ll raise a glass to the golden, yet crazy butterfly for giving me a great time as long as it lasted.

I will thank the butterfly for showing me good from bad and letting me move on.

I must not forget the many flowers I passed by before I found the right one, each and every gave me a new advice to live by.

If I ever met one of them again, I’ll shake their hand and say my thanks for preparing me for the one that counts.

I hope one day I will meet the black sheep again under different terms in a different time, until then I will always have what she said to thing about.

I would like to thank her for giving me insight in what to judge on and when to back off, may all luck be with her.

As I stand here dry and cozy, I think about all the others that I never addressed but know they have my thanks too.

Thank you for these scars.

(Header: pixabay.com)

Red Tangles : An Erotic Poem

Red Tangles by Sage l Mattison at Écririons

The splashes of red
against white.
Her skin – pale.
Her walls – stark.

But her hair,her lips,
that lace bra
cupping her silky mounds – red.

Bold and beautiful.

Ringlets of red frame her face,
tangled and full from our night
of no sleep.
Wild and free from our night
of bodies touching, gasping for air.

This morning, she slipped on her
bra and slicked on that color to
accentuate her full lips.
Her hair – unbrushed.
My hands tingle with the need to be buried in those
ringlets of fire.
I ache to see those lips
wrapped around me – staining me.

Bold and beautiful.

(Header image credit: Still Thinking by Bridget)

Inspiration & Connection Writing Prompt #1

Weekly Writing Prompt Link Up at Écririons

Welcome to the first edition of the Weekly Inspiration and Connection Writing Prompt Link Up here at Écririons!

Each Monday, I’ll be posting a writing prompt. It might come as an image, a song, a question, a piece of dialogue, a word or an idea.

The purpose of this weekly writing prompt challenge is to get you writing, to get you trying new things as well as connecting you with other writers and readers. You can find the full rules here.

Here’s a quick run down:
Use the given prompt to create a new, original creation. It can be a story, a poem, a song, a dance etc
Share it on your own site and be sure to include the Écririons banner by copying the following code and paste it into your html/text editor (replace the brackets with < and >)
[a href=”http://ecririons.com/2015/04/writing-prompt-1/”][img src=”http://ecririons.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/linkup.jpg” alt=”Weekly Writing Prompt Link Up at Écririons” width=”600″ height=”100″ class=”aligncenter size-full wp-image-300″ /][/a] Come back here and link up to your direct blog post in the link up below.
On Sunday night, one of our editors/authors at Écririon will go through the linked up posts and pick our top 3 and feature them in the new post the next day.

Week 1 Prompt:

“I saw what was in his mind. I know what he’s planning.”

(after sharing what you’ve written on your own blog, be sure to add a link below to the DIRECT post.)

Her Soft Angles

Her Soft Angles by Sage L Mattison at Écririons

His whole life had been leading up to this exact moment. This moment with her, with them together. God she was beautiful. The moonlight caressed her skin as his eyes devoured every inch of the smooth skin he could see.

The curves and angles were addicting. She moaned his name into the night and his hands descended, wrapping around her waist and hauling her lithe frame against his own.

“Mi amor.” He whispered, his voice heavy with lust and impatience. His thumbs grazed the underside of her breasts as he zeroed his gaze in on the tender flesh of the juncture between her neck and collar-bone. His lips made contact and he was on fire, he burned inside and felt her tremble in his arms.

His lips sucked and his teeth nipped along the bone, making love to her skin as she writhed against him. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her hands tangled in his unruly hair and she whispered his name over and over again, begging and pleading for more of him.

As he palmed her breast, caressing her nipple he kissed a path up her neck, along her jaw and then paused at her mouth. They shared their breath, panting with need and he felt his hips bucking against her of their own volition.

“Si, mi amor.” He whispered, his voice tickling her moistened lips. Taking the steps as long as he could, he carried her to her large bed, lying her down like she was made of glass. She held onto his form, refusing to let go, and captured his mouth with her own.

Pleading now without words, she delved her tongue into his mouth.

He was made for this and she was made for him. He smiled against her soft lips, spreading her legs wide for him as he shifted into place. There was no turning back and he didn’t even want to, all he wanted was here and now.

And with one thrust, he took what was his.

Image in header Credit: nicer than air via Compfight cc

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