Gabriella Gorecki

Notice To Subscribers

If you want to continue to support my work, I highly suggest to go to my Substack and subscribe there. Pateron will be dedicated to photographs and figure art references and I am unsure when I will start that up again.

I am a writer, and appreciate the support given so far but my creative endeavors tend to lean toward words. My creative expression does go further than that, but is diffic...

Analysis of Heartstrings by Genevieve Volz

Heartstrings by Geneviève Volz is a deeply emotional, raw exploration of heartbreak, healing, and the human condition. The poetry collection, alongside its evocative illustrations, offers an intimate, vulnerable account of the author's journey. As a reader, you’re invited to leap into a world shaped by trauma and resilience, where love, pain, and self-discovery are constantly i...

Living with Autism: A Different Lens

What is Autism? According to the National Institute of Mental Health, autism spectrum disorder is a neurological and developmental disorder that affects how people interact with others, communicate, learn, and behave. For me, my development was at a general pace or faster (in current contexts—that’s a different blog for another day), but that is what makes it a spectrum. Every...

Last Christmas

A year ago, I missed the snowy grounds I once stomped on. Today I miss the triumph family creates when brought together on a joyous day. A haven to be with on a day meant for gathering. Last year, the cold decided to bite itself into me and nip at my fingers and toes. Nothing around me not even a friend to lean on except for a thousand strangers who said they could bring me into their homes. 2024-12-24 19:49:32 +0000 UTC View Post

Glowa do gury! I naprzud.

My world had crumbled before my father spoke. The day I had experienced included typical numb-crushing events. The loss of a job and a friend. Both were not exactly dream material, but having them meant a lot. For others, it might be another day and things eventually will fix themselves, but for me it’s intense. It felt heavy due to autistic traits.

“It should not impact you. It does ...

Daffodils

I’ve only been given daffodils disguised as roses. At first, I couldn’t tell the difference. The deep crimson smudged slightly into my skin. Thought it was funny, now I beat the man silly when given me the disguised flowers. The yellow peaks through. I love yellow, but not this time. It doesn’t always signify happiness apparently. I don’t want those damn flowers unless if they are real....

Finally a poem and not a poet

Before the first verse caught my eyes

Warmth surged beneath my skin, a rise.

Fingers brushed so gently to paper

And skin–a depth that pulls a savor.

In the reflection of your words, I find my song,
A melody that dances where daydreams swell,
My lips hold truths, no longer shadows to quell,
In your gaze, my voice feels strong.

In gaz...

For the artists pt.2

A man’s inner thoughts by a woman who has been hurt

Perhaps it is time. Where the minutes turn into hours your longing is easy to pick up on. It falls off though. I sent enough signs for you, in hopes that you would show up on my doorstep, drenched in lust. There were formidable actions I truly wanted to pursue with you, as your aura is enticing. Something about you made me long for more time even though I want to deface it. To linger over. It m...

Aching

Nine Days

A man of the land believes he is failing in love with a mermaid.

Day One

When you came into my life, you were all dawned in white. A dress that reflected the innocent color, baring your purity. Unfortunately, there are little rips bigger than they appear. Around the edges, lacing trims along the seam. The act of innocence wiped away from your angel-like face. I get to he...

Across the Bridge

On my first mourning, I knew another side existed.

Ethereal and beautiful I knew wherever they go it’ll be wonderful.

For the concept of time and age that poor soul knew it wanted to stop.

In a deep slumber, I came across a bridge seeing the past skip by.

A stream of sorrow under it, yet a happy shine glowed right above.

Wherever the bridge goes white ...