the girl with crazy dance

The girl with two left feet
darker shade in her eyes and
deeper hue of black in her hair.
She goes
tap tap tap tap tap tap dancing
in her most trusted shoes
giving all she has to keep up
with the music, her steps upbeat
albeit a little off.
Tonight though it seems,
the rustling of the trees outside
is louder, calling out her name.
So she twirls and swirls and twists and turns
glides through the crowd
toward open air where
her melody takes her by the hand
as she continues her crazy dance.


For #WhisperingNeds 122, ‘dances (dance, dancing)’.

© annie scribes 2018
all rights reserved



“Welcome to your new home.” A voice woke her—or was it the wind? Zeera was not sure. Slowly coming to her senses, she found herself sitting on a bed of magenta wildflowers in a meadow surrounded by dancing pine trees.

Standing up and getting oriented, she felt the cool ground beneath her feet, at the same time being aware of roots firmly yet ever so softly growing deep within. Above her, high up in the branches, songbirds trilled. Continue reading “home”

on flaws and dreams

It took her hundreds of full moons to accept the fact that perfection slowed her down. One night the moon looked at her from such an angle that the light showed her flaws and somehow made them look beautiful on her.

There were times when she felt like she could fly up high, wings spread, ready to seize her dreams. There were times life would find a way to pull her back down to earth, often forcefully.

She is still walking on the road she believes will take her to her destination. Her scars stick out, but they are a reminder of her strength, because after all the fall and the pain, she’s still here.

“The woman in the mirror is the reason why I hold on to my dreams.” —@anniescribes


© annie scribes 2018
all rights reserved

in search of a shape

remind me again what
I’m looking for

having been knocked around
by heavy rains and high winds
I forget why I came here

maybe it was the calm after the storm
or before the next storm
(because there’s never
really time to stop and breathe)
but I am jaded
impatiently waiting for a chance to peel off
from the crowd running
a million miles an hour;
had they been on a runway they could have
taken off and flown
though not for the better

remind me again what I’m looking for—
the shapes have shifted beyond recognition


© annie scribes 2018
all rights reserved

alone with the moon

Night falls and I try to steal seconds with the moon; my story just one of the millions she patiently listens to since dusk.

The winds may be bored by now—it’s the same tale over and over—but they make appropriate noises to punctuate my emotions as I tell it.

I know the sun does not really care about how much I miss you during the day, so I choose the darker part of the night to sit with melancholy in silence.

The last thing I want is for the stars to take pity on me, for not being able to savor moments with you, so I square my shoulders and wait for my turn to share my wishes again, with my beloved moon.


© annie scribes 2018
all rights reserved

and so they arrive

and so they arrive at the border
unsure of what got them there—
the push or the pull
but something in the deep dark black hole
beckons from the other side of the wall
as they crawl closer,
shapes and shades dance

and so they gaze into each other’s eyes
with a knowing smile:
it’s time


For #WhisperingNeds 121, ‘losing it’.

© annie scribes 2018
all rights reserved

set ablaze

I caught your passion
diving head first willingly
burning in your flame


For February Prompts, ‘reckless frenzy’.

© annie scribes 2018
all rights reserved

returning to me

Returning To Me

Listen here.

For #WhisperingNeds 120 ‘unbearable/return/weight/lightness’.

© annie scribes 2018
all rights reserved