Her cerulean eyes
A whirlpool of misery
I willfully drown
I write and take photos.
How does it work?
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Wow💕💖😊
More stories from Chad Verzosa and writers in Poets and other communities.
What's reality? The horizon and the sea A bleary façade
By Chad Verzosa3 years ago in Poets
Lying on the floor, CDs are spread out around me. Some are in their cases, while others are bare. My music player softly pumps out melodies into the air.
By Amethyst Champagne2 days ago in Poets
Scentences, fly words, catchers wow'd. Top-hatters magically, real magic, howled. What see and spit the letters,
By K.A. Smith5 days ago in Poets
"The music is too loud." "It is." "Why did we come to a bar?" "Why not?" "It's loud." "We can dance." "Nobody's dancing."
By Paul Fingla day ago in Fiction
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