Monday, April 20, 2015

The World In Words: Washington Square North

Hello everyone. Although I absolutely love writing style guides, recipes, book reviews and random musings about my life, I've really missed creative writing. There are creative writing classes here at NYU that I could potentially take, but because I'm double majoring and taking required core classes, I only have one or two free elective spaces--sad, I know. So, I thought it would be incredibly fun to start a creative writing project on MM called "The World In Words" where I'll post a photo and write a few words about it. I'm also interested in writing for your photos as well, so if there is a particular image that you'd like me to write about, feel free to contact me. 

Sometimes words will make sense, sometimes they won't. Sometimes you'll like them, sometimes you won't; that's the beauty of writing. I'm really excited to start this project and I hope you guys enjoy.

(Photo taken on Washington Square North)

Washington Square North 
I used to walk along Washington Square North on my way home from school
I loved looking up as I walked, especially in spring when the flowers are in bloom
All above my head, white blossoms blocked my view of the blue sky
White, white, everything was white,
but I didn't mind; I thought white was beautiful.

On days when the wind was especially strong, 
I could almost hear white blossoms whispering my name
"Come, come and be as we are; come lose yourself to the wind"
At first I was intrigued,
so I'd sit there, watching white petals detach from their branches and float towards the ground
One by one, they'd lose themselves to the wind
like they were meant to be lost.

On the day I stopped walking along Washington Square North, 
I was sitting idly by watching petals float
as two little girls strode to their deaths.
When I saw the car,
I urged my feet to move
to run
to save those two little girls,
but the trees extended their branches and latched onto my feet like arms
the bushes formed a barricade, entrapping me in a prison made of white
and the ground turned to wet glue that pulled me down
down, down
until-
it was too late
and they were lost, like white petals floating towards the ground in spring.