Christy Munson

Joined March 2021

187 stories

Bio

My words expose what I find real and worth exploring.

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Unofficial Challenge Winners:

Homecoming | Ask Me in December | Story of Humanity | Strangely Art

Achievements (5)

Stories (187)

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Yours Forever
🥇 Co-First Place—Babs Iverson's Ask Me In December Unofficial Challenge. Read The Envelope Please to learn about the winning entries, and enjoy all the remarkable writers' entries here.
By Christy Munson2 years ago in Poets
Season of the Sneeze
In celebration of Babs Iverson's third anniversary as a wonderful Vocal creator and her 300th story, please enjoy my entry in her unofficial challenge, Ask Me In December. See my lyrical inspiration below to reference the melody.
By Christy Munson2 years ago in Poets
every time you fall
Every time you fall, I Catch my breath and then remember to give you what you need Lightening your load or making life easier for you doesn't challenge you
By Christy Munson2 years ago in Poets
Human
this hope you ask me to cling to is indecent, a conflict diamond you finger in your pocket ___ we are
By Christy Munson2 years ago in Poets
Ballerina
brand new outdoor rink spotlights town square __ rounds of new diamond lights slice through the moon’s old hat
By Christy Munson2 years ago in Poets
Cherry Blossoms
I dreamed of you in 1975 for the first time although you were planted in my subconscious long years before my birth
By Christy Munson2 years ago in Poets
Candy
A twisted wrapper tossed aside bobbles toward the shore I’ve seen that candy pass my lips and felt the want for more I thought of you and her a while and tried not to regret
By Christy Munson2 years ago in Poets
Pack Animals
Had the oppressive heat not choked his throat, he'd have yelped for help. No help would have come. He'd have blistered his shrill vocal chords at the risk of collapsing his graying lungs, if given half a chance. Instead he gasped for air amid fits of silent anger.
By Christy Munson2 years ago in Fiction
On The 8th Day
He was exhausted. Six days had been enough. On the seventh day He rested. But there was still so much work to be done. He thought long and hard about asking for assistance because He was used to doing things just so, His own way, exactly as He liked it.
By Christy Munson2 years ago in Fiction
subjection
Author's Note: This poem's subject is sexual assault and might be triggering. Reader discretion is advised. _____________________________
By Christy Munson2 years ago in Poets
Rain Dancers
laughing like lovers we walk splash silly, step—step—step for me s__t__r__ i__d__e___ for him, punting pooling puddles like pigskins
By Christy Munson2 years ago in Poets
The Journey
because the expectant skies would soon sully us with belly rain and slumping roofs like wizards’ hats on thatched cottages
By Christy Munson2 years ago in Poets