Melissa Ingoldsby
Stories (1297)
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Soft thunder
Dear Jane, Did you ever see the evidence of winter start with soft thunder and the sun blooming through the gray, listless clouds? I find the snow eerie. The ice crystals that settle down inside the once lush landscape of green refresh me yet again, I feel a tormenting sensation of nostalgia for something that never existed.
By Melissa Ingoldsby11 months ago in History
Closed up
i am sewn up, stitched tight I can't bring myself to open Each stitch is tight, hurt so terribly to tie together and the indifferent airs made them even tear a little bit but still intact just barely In fact, the stitches are barely holding even though—i refuse to open.
By Melissa Ingoldsby11 months ago in Poets
Remember when you first kissed me?
Dearest Barbara, It's summer in the dreary 2004. Why aren't you here with me? I get the feeling you'd knock me out for wanting death so much. But I remember the most terrible things mixing up inside of me when I realized that you were actually gone. When you left that night, I had the chance to run after you but you were so affected by something that you demanded I stay behind.
By Melissa Ingoldsby11 months ago in History
