Ivy Hawthorn

Excerpt From My Book...

Mucky water eyes stared at me. No blinking. No movement. Just a dead stare. As if they were seeing through me. Into my past, my soul, my thoughts. As if they were seeing the truth. It was uncomfortable, and I wanted to look away. To shake off those painfully thorough eyes and forget they ever stared. They ever knew.
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Ivy Hawthorn

Who's Life Are You Talking About?

Life is not so easy. It's hard actually. It's hard not to dwell on the incredible phenomenas in this world. To not sit and ponder the unanswerable questions. The things that slowly kill you. It's hard to get back up after being knocked down so many times. But it's harder to act like your not feeling anything at all. To deceive the people around you, and then have them accuse you of being perfect.
Ivy Hawthorn

Time (work in progress)

 It's funny to think of how much you can achieve in a minute if you truly try, and how much you can throw away on accident. Time is tangible, it can be moved and touched and altered, and it's also so precious. I'll never waste a minute ever again.
Ivy Hawthorn


 They occur in your most dangerous nightmares. They wait for the innocent, but they invite everyone in. They are a mixture of fears you've created yourself. They are all in your head. They survive off what you make for them.
Ivy Hawthorn

Phobias In Their Most Basic Form

 There are phobias for just about everything. There's one for walking, talking, eating, sleeping, breathing. But what happens when you can't touch your phobia, or see your phobia? It's just a thought that lingers in the back of your mind. One that you've latched onto because there is no answer for it. No cure. It's just a question. An unanswerable question that you've made your phobia because it's eating you away. It's become this evil thing in your core that will slowly deteriorate until there is nothing left...and you're back to the beginning. With nothing but a question. And history repeats itself.
Ivy Hawthorn

Write Fear

 You write what you know. And when you write about your fears you are creating them. Making them more tangible so that they jump off the page. So that you can live them and breathe them and feel them. And the more you write the scarier they get. Until you've encompassed your self in this world of distress that you've felt so vividly, because it came from your brain, not your heart.