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Tennica Tallis

PO# 472001
United States
United States
I'm the type of person who, when I'm upset, will write myself into a world where either I'm not in pain or my pain is at least a lot more adventurous.
July 3, 2018
Denton, United States

Once upon a time, there was an elf.

Old and bored, he didn't have much left to live for. He’d lived through his youth, burned through his many loves, and lived as many experiences as he could know existed. He was living simply because that was his default state of being, being essentially immortal as he was. He was living on through habit.

One day after deciding, for the fifth time in his life, to forego the society that had grown dull and predictable, he took a long trip through a forest that was untouched by man. On this journey, he happened upon a human girl. The poor girl was barely old enough to be let out of the house, let alone left to wander the woods alone. It was clear that she wa...

WRITE YOUR OWN STORY
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July 3, 2018
 

My name is Tennica. I am 24 years old and I’m from Texas. My favorite color is blue and my hobbies include writing, drawing, burning, crocheting, and crafting. If I can describe myself in one word it would be sensual.

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KISS A PRINCE
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July 3, 2018
Denton, United States

~°♡ Taboo ♡°~

• Sibling Incest
• Masochism
• Sadism
• Non consensual

I had a dream that I discovered that my mom wasn’t really my mom. As it turns out, there’s a whole other half of my family out there that I haven’t known about, and in the dream I get to meet them. There was my biological mom, who had left me with my known parents to save her marriage, and my stepdad, who was a bit of a stickler, but otherwise was pretty alright. I had two older brothers as well, Warren, who’s in the military, and Julian, who is a mechanic.

Turns out, aggression runs in my step dad's side of the family. My oldest brother has an outlet because of his work in the military, but Julan is angry a lot of th...

WRITE YOUR OWN STORY
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October 28, 2017
Denton, United States

Once upon a time, there was an elf.

Old and bored, he didn't have much left to live for. He’d lived through his youth, burned through his many loves, and lived as many experiences as he could know existed. He was living simply because that was his default state of being, being essentially immortal as he was. He was living on through habit.

One day after deciding, for the fifth time in his life, to forego the society that had grown dull and predictable, he took a long trip through a forest that was untouched by man. On this journey, he happened upon a human girl. The poor girl was barely old enough to be let out of the house, let alone left to wander the woods alone. It was clear that she wa...

MAKE A DIFFERENCE DAY
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October 21, 2017
 

Someday, I'll love Kimberly.

It's a constant battle I'm fighting towards. It's hard to imagine that I might be loved by so many while struggling so fervently to even like myself.

I know a portion of what they see, because there are parts that I intentionally show them. They also see parts that I don't see, though, and I'm trying so eagerly to find those parts. I don't know with any great certainty if they are truly seeing parts of myself that I have not intentionally showed them, or if they are seeing the pretty mask that I have crafted and agreeing that it is indeed pretty.

But I also see the parts that they can't see. I see the bad, and I see the lazy. I see the insecurities, and I can ...

EVALUATE YOUR LIFE DAY
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October 21, 2017
Denton, United States

I keep a journal because I often forget about the things that happen around me. I forget the things that I've done and I forget the things that I aspire to do. Over time, that journal has transitioned so it is kept in the form of a planner, for convenience. If anything moving happens, I have a journal for those things too, but the point of a journal was that I would remember.

For about 2 months after I graduated and got married, there is a massive gap in my planner from the time in my life when I was most crippled by anxiety and afraid to live. Not because life was hard during this time, but because life was suddenly easy, and I didn't trust it.

I didn't trust my laptop, because I had lived...

TINY QUEEN
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September 14, 2017
Denton, United States

Crumpled flower. Dirty sock.
This is what my body means to them.
What does it mean to me?

A girl who is touched too much.
But what is that?
Who gets to determine that?

Who gets to say that my love and my passion are bad?
Who gets to tell me that everyone that ever made me feel happy or graceful also makes me sinful and weak?
Who gets to look at me and see anything but the strength I thrust from my body like so many smiles?

They told me that if I'm not pretty, I won't be wanted,
But now that I'm wanted, I shouldn't feel pretty?
This is what my body means to them.

This is what my body means to me:

My body is sunlight, bright to look at and difficult to touch.
Those who ...

TINY QUEEN
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September 14, 2017
Denton, United States

I am a feminist who likes to be dominated. I like to be held down and made to conform to someone else's will. That's not because I'm a woman. That's because I have a sexual preference.

I want to be a writer. I have a dream of writing in a way that others can escape into. I want some child some day to look at me and think, "I admire that person, and I hope to be like her," the way I did to so many while growing up. I want my peers to listen when I speak because they know that what I say is relevant and important.

I don't expect my lifetime worth of dreams to be in any way compromised by the couple of hours every now and then that I want to be held down and commanded, and I do not have to cho...

TINY QUEEN
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August 16, 2017
Denton, United States

Truth vs. Lies

1. I have a car named Merrill. She's a Volkswagen Beetle, and she's yellow. Her nickname is Daisy.

2. I can play three instruments, though I can only play the last one a little bit.

3. I kissed an Armenian man last week. We'd never met, and he couldn't speak my language.

Which is the lie?

MADONNA
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August 10, 2017
Denton, United States

I feel sad today.

There isn't any reason I should feel sad. X did not happen to Y. I even got enough sleep, and the person I love kissed me several times. I read a book I like, and I watched as my husband played one of my favorite video games. I spoke to enough people, I guess.

I suppose I just feel lonely. It seems like all the people I once relied on for comfort are drifting away. I've had several interactions that just feel hollow and empty, and I smiled through them, but it feels too forced to smile right now.

Maybe everything is fine, though.

Maybe it's just a bad day.

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MOVEMENT
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August 2, 2017
Denton, United States

I have a face. I have a name and I have history. I have been twisted into people's lives and timelines, and for that reason, my life mattered.

Mattered.

I use the past tense because I have until now lived and interacted with others. I have spurred decisions and courses of events. I have changed history and influenced others, even in the tiniest of ways. Everyone around me has changed for having known me, so it is irrefutable that I was necessary for the way the world turned out, at least for those people.

Never was I more important than I was in the past.

Now that I'm in the present, through, I have the choice to stand still, as I always have when I was in the present. I can opt to be imm...

STARS
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July 25, 2017
 

I find stories in my surroundings. That's where it starts; like a buzzing that I can't quite hush. They are the loudest things I've heard.

If only my words were as fast as my thoughts.

I see a flower and think of the boot that will crush it. I see a happy word and think of the sadness it took to create it.

Sad things are beautiful, after all.

I see a door. I think about the last person who walked out that door for the last time, not knowing they would never come back.

I think of you.

You were my best story.

You were my most beautiful sad thing.

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HAMMOCK HANG
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July 21, 2017
Denton, United States

To anyone who reads my prompt-based letters,

I am more than interested in reading letters you write that use the prompts I use. I'm especially interested in the prospect of any of you using these prompted letters as prompts in and of themselves, since most of them deviate from their original prompted word quite a bit. I think it would me really fun! So if you feel interested in the challenge, write a letter of your own and leave a comment under the letter you use as inspiration so I can know to read it!

I hope this results in some interesting letters!

Kimberly

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ONE GIANT LEAP FOR MANKIND
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July 17, 2017
 

Timed writing entry.
7 minutes.
Word Prompt: Physician.
Type: Story.

Physician doesn't mean what it once meant. I knew the old history: That there used to be people who went around trying to save lives. Doctors. Physicians. Healers. It was hard to believe, now. It seemed more like a fairy tale than history.

I watched my uncle as he worked, thinking on the old stories. I was already eight years of age, but he had held off as long as he could before allowing me an apprenticeship under him. Most children had been learning their family's profession since they were six, but he kept saying I was too young.

He pressed the cloth over a pallid woman's mouth and nose. Her arms and legs were...

GET READY
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July 17, 2017
 

Think on the falling flower.
Think on the midnight blue.
For if it's not on useless things,
I think, my love, on you.

I think on raining warships,
On things that don't occur.
For if I think on nonsense, now,
I'll not what once we were.

Think on that old town boardwalk.
Think on the ocean breeze.
But how you said you loved the sea,
And all these useless things.

I try to think of nonsense,
But what am I to do?
You once loved every useless thing
I use to forget you.

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ORIGINAL
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July 16, 2017
 

Timed writing entry.
45 seconds.
Topic: Ancient.
Type: Story.

The skies reached up around me as I traversed the ancient grounds. Artifacts that no one has laid eyes on in centuries lay scattered across the ground, their value forgotten. My foot stepped upon something soft. In the dust, something the Old Ones called a "Teddy Bear."

ORIGINAL
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July 12, 2017
 

Timed writing entry.
45 seconds.
Prompt: Points.
Type: Story.

Ching. Ching. The numbers increased on my HUD. "There, that is enough," I thought at last as I dropped the knife. Enough good deeds to win me enough grace points. Thoughts of pure, untainted water and streets of gold filled my head. I can move on, now, I thought happily, looking over my handywork. The bodies lay unmoving.

ORIGINAL
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July 6, 2017
Denton, United States

I smile on my brightest days.
I smile when I'm sad.
But if I smile all the time,
'Sit really quite so bad?

I smile when you hold my hand.
I smile when you yell.
I say to you I'll be alright,
But you could never tell.

It's really not a lie, you see.
I'll be fine 'til the end.
Able to smile, carry your weight,
Be lover or be friend.

I smile in my rain or shine;
You thrive only on fake.
You say you hate when I conceal.
I give what you can take.

So 'snot your job to carry pain;
You put that job on me.
So I need to smile, dear,
So you can feel more free.

But if you want a smile to show,
Instead, perhaps, the truth,
I'll let you know, the problem's
Not within me. It is you.

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DAY OF TRUTH
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July 11, 2017
 

Timed writing entry.
30 seconds.
Topic: Beware.
Type: Story.


Beware of the mist. It doesn’t always have time to warn you of its toxicity, but it tries. It tries so it doesn’t have to kill you. It never wanted to be anyone’s end, but it can’t help what it’s become.

ORIGINAL
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July 10, 2017
 

Timed writing entry.
3 minutes.
Topic: Ropes.
Type: Stream of Consciousness.

The ropes bite into my skin. There is nothing left to do. It is me and only me, and there is no waiting anymore, not when I am here.

I am not mine. If I'm not mine, I cannot be anyone's. No, that's nonsense. If I am not mine, I must belong somewhere. To someone. Ropes bite. I bite. Do I belong to the ropes? The ropes are not sentient. I must belong to the man holding them.

He smiles. His smile is just as biting as the ropes. Just as biting as me. His hands, rough, seem to bite as they collide with my soft flesh. I am not mine. I am not of this world, I realise as the world is ripped from me in a fit of pa...

NEVER ENOUGH APPLES
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October 19, 2016
Marshall, United States

"It's okay to smile, sometimes," she murmured to the kneeling man. He had grown old in the past few months, but the changes in him didn't frighten him nearly as much as did the changes in her. His aging features were pulled into a strained expression that she could not recognize. She smiled down at him. It was a beautiful smile.

He couldn't see how beautiful it was.

"I miss you," he rasped. He hadn't spoken for hours.

"I'm still here," she reassured him, and she tried to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, but it passed through frictionlessly. Her face fell with the disappointment that washed over her, but he jolted with the shock of a chill. She looked up at him and winced.

Anguish. S...

TINY QUEEN
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June 16, 2017
 

I seem to love brick walls.

I love the way they look and feel. I love the grit that holds them together, almost as strong as the brick itself. I love the way the brick never tries to become my roof, knowing I shouldn't have that much weight threatening my head and shoulders, always choosing to stay at my sides.

I love how it is so reliably there.

I love how unyielding it is, never claiming to love me back. I love how it can't grow or diminish based on virtue. I love how it makes a resounding crash and crumble if it can no longer be relied upon. I love how it cannot slip off soundlessly during the night.

I love how I never look at my brick wall and feel an inexplicable sadness.

Yet, I lov...

SOMEWHERE OVER THE RAINBOW
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June 7, 2017
 

You left me.

I can see it in your hesitation. I can see it in the way you can't speak to me. When you do, they are recycled words, nothing new.

You are gone.

You say it's due to stress, but stress never treated you like this. You always made time for me, even when you shouldn't have, and I can see the emptiness that is your mind when you think of me. There is no love there. Only a love shaped hole where love isn't.

I have cried for you.

The worse part is, I don't  think you know you've left. How do I break it to you?

SPARKLES
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June 4, 2017
 

What is this feeling?

I know that it's jealousy. I know I feel inadequate. How could I not? This is a battle, and I am unprepared.

My stomach boils. My throat burns with acid.

I want you to look at me. If you say that you want me, I need you to hold me. Don't tell me to be more interesting then call it encouragement.

You want me to fight for you. I have enemies. I will fight them.

I won't fight forever, though, trailing behind you. This fight is wearing me down. I am strong, but my eyesight is blurring, and I can't see your love right in front of me. It has to touch me, skin against skin. I need to wear it like armor.

Like armor, because in this battle I am naked and unarmed.

This is ...

CLOCK WORK
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June 3, 2017
 

Then and Now

~*~

-I flash a smile.-

Tighten my ropes.
You haven't bound me quite enough.

-I pass a note.-

I'm in your arms;
A tragic, non-platonic rush.

-Do you love me?-

I beg you, please.
I haven't heard those words today.

-Check yes or no.-

But how to ask?
Wax to my skin. Tape to my face.

-If you check no,-

I cannot bear
Nails in my skin, you deep inside.

-I'll let you go.-

I'll never let
You go, my dear. No compromise.

-If you say yes,-

I shift my hips,
A powerful, nonverbal plea.

-Then take my hand.-

I need to know:
Take everything! Do you love me?

NEVER GIVE UP
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June 2, 2017
Denton, United States

I sleep with the window open,
Fall, December, Spring, and June.
Yes, I sleep with the windows up,
And I live with the sleet and sun,
When it comes to loving you.

Let all the flies in, all the storms,
I know you have them tucked away.
I'll take the good and bad alike,
And know that I've seem either side.
I'll take it all, endure worse pain.

When you were here, twas like a spring
Plucking Winter from my bones,
But bones they were, make no mistake,
Back when they did not yearn or ache,
No flesh to hold or call them home.

You built me up, sinew to skin.
You gave me form; I saw my shape.
And what a lovely shape it was,
Full of dreams, and then stardust,
When your hands kept it that way.

Th...

ASPHALT GREY
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June 1, 2017
Denton, United States

There's a feeling I need to feel;
I don't feel it here today.
Once a staple, something real,
It's gone off, love, ran away.

You don't go through all the steps,
You couldn't keep your former pace.
Once you ran, love, now you sputter,
And I suffer in your wake.

You couldn't run the track you set
When you promised me a show.
Now you care just that you finish,
Heeding not the speed you go.

Now I watch you limp in circles.
We built different things, loves you and I,
You built a track, I built a runway.
You wish to run. I need to fly.

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TINY QUEEN
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May 30, 2017
Denton, United States

There's a face that I see when I close my eyes that isn't the same face I see when I open them.

He haunts me.

I know his smile because I memorized it. There's a look that he gets that I love but he hates, and I know it exists because I remember it. I took a picture of it. He hates that picture. He writes differently when he needs me, and I read that writing again and again, taking his words into me, much like I would take him, measuring his breaths and the movements of his tongue.

When I read his words, I can imagine the way he moved when he wrote them, as if he'd spoken them, because I watched him. I watched him when my eyes were open even while they were supposed to be closed, and now I ...

KISS A PRINCE
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October 20, 2016
 

I occasionally wish that I had an admirer who left me gift baskets of pretty yarn...

Not necessarily a romantic admirer, mind. Just someone who is fond of me and leaves pretty yarn arranged in nice baskets on my doorstep with pleasantly written letters...

"Here, have this bouquet of yarn skeins," (s)he would say. "I arranged it myself."

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THE WINTER PENGUIN STAMP
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May 12, 2015
 

Today, I was in a bookstore coffee shop with my childhood friend; I have mentioned her before, so let us call her "Titus." We both order our own large frozen hot chocolates, and the cashier asks Titus if she would like to donate a pound of coffee to the serving troops.

It would cost $8.

With $8, one could buy a book, albeit an inexpensive one. That's a meal or two, or it could be a pick me up for gas money. On a bad day, that's three boxes of chocolate, eight if you're cheap, or three pints of ice cream. Eight dollars is a lot of money for someone without a stable career.

Titus affirms this $8 purchase, and I am taken aback. "You're such a nice person!" I exclaim, now that the bill, toting...

COFFEE
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