Articles written by Evan Fitton

What is Helium

About me - Evan Fitton

I am human, I believe in life, happiness, and peace. <3
I'm still searching for a sense of purpose, a light that leaves a warmth in my chest. Something I can hold onto and clutch in my hands when I feel too spent to carry on. I feel my words are a weapon

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Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Inspirational: 4 of 473

Sometimes I don't know how to feel...walking, I see the rain that falls in the desert of my dreamseach drop falling like a tearthe fabric beneath my feet ripping into oblivionas I look above and gaze into the face of two moons,I feel a memory arise in meone day I saw you look into my eyesand in that enthralling moment, I knew... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: I'm not your victim: 1 of 43
The writer and the bull .Even though you see through me nowtomorrow will bring something newyou stare at me and begin to speakevery word is lying on the floor, pummeled by youput me in the corral and watch me freakrunning and trampling my angry feetI assure you these walls will come crashingdown and out the hole in your heart... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Death: 31 of 693
I remember the day . . .mortality came to warn me of deathI sat down on the edge of my bedI looked into the eyes of this messenger. . . this manifestationnot knowing why or where . . .coming from the darkest existenceshowing me memories of my owntrauma, death, despair, hope, life, happinessall within an instantlike a wave of ... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Chaos: 2 of 41
tohu va vohu, or the string pulled itself into oblivioninterceding lines, scribbles,ideas all crossed outsomewhat connected, yet dissonantwithin themselves, the art of lookingin between, the searching for meaningin trivial words, mumbling incantationshateful objections, glossolaliaincessantly blurted out, no synaptic recognit... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Loneliness: 77 of 580
Lullaby.Every sad songevery hopeful tunewritten from the stringsthat tie your wounded heart . . .have given me a feeling of homefamiliarity overcomes the longingonly bringing me sadnessis it wrong to believe in sufferingas a way to cope, to heal a great schismone large enough, so vast and expansivethat I can only see acrosson... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Sinking: 8 of 56

We all sink sometimeswhether we hit the bottom, or simply take in too muchwe find a little solace in being contently lowtoo often we build ourselves out of clay and sandslowly the grains find spaces to occupybeneath our cherished steps they fleewe all sink sometimesweather we despise, or take for grantedwe find a little solac... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Society: 49 of 282
Freedom is exploitationIn a plot of land, stolen and covered in bloodwe set our tracks in hope of redemptiondriving out the creative spirits because of their skin complexionhopelessly ruining what we are striving forour own creation has sunk its razor teethbleeding internally and rambling incessantlywe sit and collect the blo... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Courage: 14 of 50
Every morning I am blessed to rise againthe feeling of being alive, breathing in.To embrace life in the instant, unrelenting.Is to accept what we are given, not dissenting.Every breathe is a small glance, at the beauty and grace all by chance.I can't help but shed a tear, a layer of my loving soul.Dear Earth, can you and I gr... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Rebirth: 17 of 49
hold your breath across this chasmchild , please don't let it gothe entire entity of mankind is riding the whisperbut they can't see your graceful stepstheir wilting eyes are not pureand as their presence overwhelms meI can feel the incandescent glowmy spine disconnects from the synapsein a slow shifting toneneurons shaped li... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Self-awareness: 82 of 235

IOften, we see ourselves as we dreamnot floating over hills and peaksbut in the blurry visage of our own two eyeswe travel too slow, or too fast, never just rightthose who object us are seen as enemiesthose who stand beside us are blood and boneonly until we are nude and broken, do we shiverat the sight of what we become, cru... More..