u can word stuff any way u want but when the meaning is lost it needs to lose its traditionality
Flitting through the trees, swerving like I was a racing car striving for it's victorious checkered line. The trees made not a single difference in my path and I had not but even one single black tipped feather in a place that was less than ideal, and it was effortless for I had done it all my life.
By Phoenix4 years ago in Fiction
My mother made many mistakes. Whew, glad that's off my chest. Now, lets get to the good stuff. My mother passed away in 2018, leaving me, a recent highschool graduate, on their own to try to figure out the world. Having not lived with my father in over 10 years of my life, I certainly felt alone.
By Phoenix5 years ago in Families
several years, several tears, where the sun goes is where we steer several seconds, second times, all the rhythm,
By Phoenix5 years ago in Poets
to face the colour we embody there is a colour that is shoddy it gives us life and death alike it gives a maiden of malice and strife
when rose a dew it does not speak for forever more it does not sleep when a rose a dew it is a plenty for whether a dime it is,
