Tag Archives: short story


19 Aug



I’ve been having euphoric dreams of bubbly clear ponds an d lush fields of green

and I saw a pretty boy singing with a mandolin-

he was sharing a song with a ripe colorful smuggish grin


when I walked and set foot into the pond I noticed dozens of shimmering fish,

casting light like mother of pearl and so I made a wish


I’d tell you what it was but that would defeat the purpose so…

I’ve locked this dream away in my closet and made a friend of the beau


I’ve made it my home I return to every night

to wash away the burden of my life of black and white


©copyright Kyanna Kitt


Prompt 4: Music- Inspired by “Smells Like Teen Spirit” by Nirvana

17 Aug


Confusion sets in like thick clouds on a humid & hazy summer day- And that it was. I merely a child sat watching MTV on my Barbie princess sheets. I don’t know what piqued my interest more the transparent purple television with the 3 foot antenna or the music. I was hot headed child, always grumpy but never easily irritated. I am always the first definition that comes to mind when I think of a paradox. Passive but aggressive, Gentle but rough both sweet and sour like the candy from my youth… Those were the 90’s. As I am sitting here picking my memories I can see myself as a child writing poems and stories and constantly putting entries in my ‘Book of Everything’ as I see myself stuffing things into these catalogs, I am inspire by Nirvana. Smells Like Teen Spirit. If you are wondering, yes it still is one of my favorite songs.


Grump kid

after school

rushing through homework.

Quick drink and snack

time for cheerleading practice

I grunt and pout

Oh how I loathe this place

I ball up my tiny face

These smiles faker than

a politicians promise

transparent- disgrace

I hate that big bitch the most,

I roll my eyes

Go Pioneers , Go!

Some frontier.

Prompt 2: Fear

15 Aug

Prompt 2: Fear

Rolling around some pitch dark room at night, I shifted my head to catch the coolness of the pillow beneath the thick heat under my chin. I was sleeping with my eyes wide open. This frightened me. It had never happened before. Not to me. The room, I felt had only one wall housing me. The other three nonexistent both virtually and physically. Walls. They act as my womb, my shield, my fortress. My shelter. My defenses were minimal. Just a thick blue paisley quilt sheltered me- Not that you could see it, but I did feel it. Just as I felt another presence looming amidst the black mass that was my room. My true room, the one that only is when I myself lay dormant. The one my soul rests in.

The true place in our parallel sister dimension. The darkness that was our true abode. Unconsciousness. Unforgiving- Unwillingness to reside peacefully within ourselves. Pessimists, those wicked demons, menacingly approaching around me like ominous gales forcing themselves through the open window that was my room. What was I to do? Their dark chakras were holding me there. I was petrified. If only my guard-

My guardian,” I thought aloud.

I thought all I have to do is – My lips pressed shut so that I couldn’t even murmur. I was voiceless- Merely a lifeless artifact there in that dark place and yet they had heard everything. My eyes now opened and widened with fear. Suddenly, the one thing that protected me was ripped from my body. The cold air washing over the dampness of my skin. That large blanket wasn’t thrown- No… It was floating! It appeared to me- It was the only thing I could see, and that demon put it on- Like a cloak. He stole my only hope. My body now shuddering, I held myself. He was floating now directly over top of me. As quickly as he had appeared he vanished, tossing the blanket back over my head almost mockingly.

That night I met a true terror I wish to never encounter again. One word of advice I can give is, if you find yourself enveloped in darkness, to truly hide….Don’t forget your head! I’m still not sure whether it was the uncertainty of the darkness or the creatures that dwell within it that scared me more, but I know that I’m not a skeptic. Never anymore.

©copyright Kyanna Kitt

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