l i z [save the sharks‼️]’s Comments (group member since Aug 22, 2025)

l i z [save the sharks‼️]’s comments from the ★¸.•☆•.¸★ 🅃🄷🄴 🅆🅁🄸🅃🄸🄽🄶 🄽🄾🄾🄺 ★⡀.•☆•.★ group.

Lee wrote: "her
glare is
so cold it
could raise the dead
right out of their graves
generations of death
one look could burn, third degree
but it will always be my fault
the hatred in her gaze is always
trac..."

woah! I love this. so eerie....

I wrote this one I'm my history class (again lol) but lmk! I can't decide if I like it or not :-)

The rain began long before she woke, falling like tears from the clouds, shimmering gold where the light shone bright. She sat there watching for hours before remembering to move, before remembering to be a person again.
Itś strange, she said, how a morning can become the inside of a thought.
And the word answered. The floorboards creaked, the rain spoke itś lonely language of falling, the kettle downstairs whined.
She poured the boiling water into the coffee grounds and wondered as the steam warmed her face if this is what it felt like to dissolve. The smell of coffee curled around her face, her hair, until there was no difference between her skin and the air. Where did it stop and she begin?
Her thoughts wandered outside to her garden, how the soil had clung to her skin, black crescent moons under her nails. She sat beside her lover, or was it just the memory of her? She had muttered something then, something about all of eternity fitting between two heartbeats. She couldn’t remember exactly, only feel the warmth of emotion pressing between her rib.
Now, the house was quiet… but maybe quiet wasn’t quite right. Her house was busy with the hum of the refrigerator, the fall of rain, and the echo of laughter that never quite died.
She walked back to her room, feeling herself slip away again. She reached out, touching the wall. Or had it touched her first?
The world outside had faded into a fog. Her garden was now made of shadows, the colors faded and bleeding together as the sun slipped from the sky. She stepped outside, the earth cold against her bare feet.
She whispered I miss you into the wind.
The mist said I know.
Maybe the earth shifted to comfort her. And maybe she didn’t have to know where she ended and the universe began, because maybe there is no difference anymore.
She stood there for hours before she remembered to move, before remembering ti be a person again.

this is so cool! if you want a topic to post your wip, lmk!

sieraqvt🇻🇳 semi-ia (school) wrote: "question: my writing goal is strugglinggg rn because i can’t write anything 😭 tips for writers block?"

don't force it! just write whenever you have something to say. its okay if you need to take a break for a while. remember, it's supposed to be fun!

sieraqvt🇻🇳 semi-ia (school) wrote: "here’s a little excerpt from book 2 of my wip trilogy! (i wrote this at like midnight so it’s not that great.)

In this world, surrounded by chaos, loss, and failures, the smallest wins can mean t..."

i love this! lmk if you want a topic to post your book!

aamyx wrote: "“predator”

I hope when my heartbeat resets
And returns to a new body,
That this one belongs to
The predator, not the prey
A big bear stretching its claws
Mountain lion crouched beneath bushes,
Wai..."

i love love this!

aamyx wrote: "@liz LMFAOOOO"

don you know its nonfiction~ hehe

i found this in my notes app.. it shows i added it at like3 am a few days ago but i lowk don't remember writing it. its pretty rough but i'm just gonna post it how it is!

``

one night, i dropped my phone under the bed.
it rolled too far, i couldn't reach it.
after a few seconds of struggling, a hand passed it back to me.
''thank you'' i said.
wait-

you guys are too kind i fear

alex wrote: "GIRL YOU ATE THAT UP SO HARD THO LIZ
i love your writing style and your concepts!"

aww omg thank you xx

aamyx wrote: "also, I can give your other story a deeper read through over the weekend and offer feedback! I’ve been busy with work training and school stuff as my semester starts"

i actually was talking about the one in the same message as that, but now re-reading it I see that it was worded weirdly, sorry! I would love feedback on anything though <3

edie-may ☆✞ wrote: "OH DAMN THE NON-TWIST-PLOT-TWIST GOES CRAZY LIZ 🔥"

thank you!!

aamyx wrote: "liz you are so talented!! seriously, I love the dark plots you explore. you should definitely consider looking for and submitting to some horror or darker story journals"

aw thank you! I wrote this one during my ap world block today because we don't do shit in that class.. but anyways it's still pretty rough so I would love feedback!

~~
oh also a quick trigger warning: umm idk exactly how to phrase this but like self harm but not in a suicidal way.

~

Nobody believed me.

My mother called it depression. ADHD. Anxiety. My father, he didn’t call it anything. He couldn’t even look at me. I collected diagnoses like pins. ‘Dissociation.’ ‘Bipolar Disorder.’ ‘Psycosis.’ I was just a checkbox on their list of tasks for the day. Nobody listened.

I knew something wasn’t right.

I felt it in the way I moved, my steps too precise. I heard it in the way my thoughts zipped into my brain, fully formed before I even thought them. I smiled at the right times, laughed at the jokes. But I felt nothing.

I wasn’t paranoid. I was being controlled.

I started testing myself, testing them, waiting for a glitch in the code. I stayed up for days without sleeping, went days without eating. I held my hand over the stove, hoping for proof, anything to show that I was right. But my body just kept going on. Perfectly, too much so.

I can’t take it anymore.

As I’m writing this, I sit in my bathroom, the lights above my head shining bright, too bright. I grip the blade in my hand, not nervous, not scared. I was excited, in a way. Everyone would be proven wrong.

I dug through my skin searching for the wires they hid in me, but all I found was flesh.

As I bleed onto the cold tiles, there is no pain. Only betrayal, hot and pulsing red like the flesh in my arm, mocking me.

There are no wires.

No one controlling me, no one pulling the strings.

That means every fake smile, every conversation I regret, it was all me.

And that is the most terrifying thing of all.

aamyx wrote: "this one is a nonfiction story

“Snow Leopard”

Mrs. Gewel always told everyone I was exceptional. “Pleasure to have in class,” marked into every report card saved in the stack, fine lines of high ..."

I love this! the flow is so pretty..

‘Oh, you can't help that. We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad.’
-Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland


The house had been abandoned for years. At least, that’s what the locals thought. No one could remember the last time the house had been lived in. It sat on the outskirts of their little town, crooked and sagging, vines climbing up the sides like leafy fingers. The windows were dark, and the door hung open, yet every so often someone would swear they saw a light flickering inside, a match or a candle. But nobody dared to creep closer than the front gate.

But one evening, as the wind began to bite and the shadows grew longer, a figure appeared at the gate.

He wasn't someone any of the townspeople recognized. And maybe it was the way the shadows flickered across the lawn, but his features seemed to shift, almost as if he was made of multiple people. No name, no history, just a shadow of a person who pushed through the front gate. Almost as if he was drawn to the front door.

The air inside was cold, colder than it was outside. The air tasted stale, as if the walls themselves couldn’t breathe. The floor creaked and shifted under his footsteps, but there was something… alive in the sound. Instead of the sound of the floorboards creaking and settling, it was the sound of something waiting.

He moves through the rooms, stepping over broken shards of furniture. Rooms that must have looked beautiful in their prime now stood in ruin. The wallpaper peeled from the walls in strips, an almost fluid look to it, the once-colorful carpets now mildewy and damp. The farther he walked into the house, the quieter it got.

But then, from somewhere in the house, came a tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap.

It came from above him- the attic. He climbed the almost never ending staircase until he reached the attic door. The tapping continued. Tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap. It was steady, persistent. Something was in there. Or someone.

With a shaky hand, he twisted the knob and pushed the door inwards.
Inside, the air was even colder. The room was dark, with thin shadows stretching across the room from the slivers of moonlight leaking in through the cracks. The room was cluttered, filled with old things: trunks, faded photographs and dusty furniture. But he ignored it. There was one thing that drew his attention.

There was a small, cracked hand mirror hanging from a hook in the center of the far wall. It wasn’t large, but there was something eerie about it. The glass was free of dust, a strange juxtaposition with the rest of the room. But that wasn’t all. There were marks on the mirror’s face, like the scars of cracks that had somehow mended themself.

He stepped forward, his hand reaching for the mirror. Holding it up to his face, his reflection was faint, but it was there. Just a flicker of his own, distorted by the marks that moved across the mirror, no longer hiding. Then, he saw something that wasn’t there before. The room behind him was dimmer, the shadows darker, as if some entity had entered the room behind him.

The tapping stopped.

A low sound rose behind him, so quiet he almost missed it. It was the sound of a sigh, or the breath of someone who had been waiting for much too long.

He spun around, but the room was empty. It looked just as it had before he picked up the mirror.

He looked back to the mirror, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He watched as the reflection changed again. The room was no longer dusty and dim; it was alive with colors and sounds. Shadows moved from their corners, flickering, stretching out muscles gone too long unused. And there, behind his reflection, something was waiting for him. Not exactly a person, but something else. Something… more. And it had been hidden behind the glass all this time.

He dropped the mirror, the glass shattering once more. As he turned to run, he saw the attic had changed. It was no longer the way it had been when he entered, but the one from the mirror. The shadows lunged for him, twisting around his ankles like the vines outside the house.

The house settled, the mirror mended itself, and the tapping resumed, it’s tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap now in time with his heartbeat. The door slammed shut, trapping everything and everyone inside.

The reflection in the mirror didn’t change. The thing still stood there, watching.

Only now, he was part of it.

aamyx wrote: "@edie-may and @liz these blew me away. I love the words you use and the story you tell"

awee youŕe too kind 😚

@edie-may i love this!

awee thank you guys!

They asked me to kill you.

They talked in quiet, dark rooms, whispering your name like it was a curse.
They showed me evidence.
Photos. Numbers. Wounds.

They called you a monster.
I was supposed to be the one person left who could stop you.
The hero. The last good thing.
So I watched you from rooftops, through cracked windows and bloodstained streets.

I watched you breathe.

And then I saw your face.
Not the pictures they painted with their files,
Just you.
All alone,
Exhausted.
But not afraid.

You looked up at me like you already knew what was coming.
But you smiled. Not a wicked smile, just... calm.
Like nothing mattered anymore, not even death.

I stood there, my knife in my coat.
I had trained for this.
I'd imagined this in a thousand ways.
They said i'd be the here, the one who stopped you for good.

But instead I said your name.
Not like and executioner,
Like a prayer.

You said mine back.
Not fearfully, just with recognition.

And I knew in that moment, I couldn't kill you.
I couldn't even try.

They could never understand a love like this.
It's not soft, it's not kind.
It's violent, all-consuming.

They say a hero would sacrifice one person to save the world, but I would end the world for you.
I already have.

They sent soldiers. I sent bodies.
They asked questions. I stayed quiet.
They sent me. I chose you.

They used to call me 'light.'
'The last good thing.'
'Hope.'

But hope doesn't rip the truth from throats just to keep your name safe.
Light doesn't leave informants lying in alleyways.

You're sleeping as I write this, so small, so still.
Curled into yourself, unaware.
You'd never believe the skeletons in my closet if I opened them to the light.

Someday, though, I believe you'll find out.

Maybe you'll hate me. Maybe you'll run.
That's okay.

I never needed you to love me. i just needed you to live.
They warned me about the monster.
I just never thought they mean me.

riptide

I broke like the surf with every lie,
I swallowed salt but never denied
Bit my tongue till it bled foam
And built their comfort, but at what cost to my own?

I grew tired of the tides that tore me thin,
Screaming inside, but I still grin.
Called it love, fucking hypocrites.
My life was an ocean, and I drowned in it.