As sands shift and turn,
Love erodes with each passing,
Fading with the tide.
How does it work?
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.
More stories from Chloe Dalton and writers in Poets and other communities.
We were standing on a bridge Standing on a bridge (ARTIFICE) trees skinned and bared, laid out beneath our feet We were standing on a bridge in the forest, we were talking about magic
By Chloe Dalton3 years ago in Poets
They urge me, “say it with more feeling!” As if it isn’t my very feelings that are the culprit for this stoic numbness As if it isn’t my very feelings that I’m drowning in
By Mikayla Rose7 days ago in Poets
Drink to Get Drunk, The Other Side, Flirt. Could I Take It to Heart, Little Man? Healing Is Difficult. I'm Not Important to You, Sober and Unkissed,
By Andreas Sjögren7 days ago in Poets
The tales and whispers have proven true. The evil that has lurked in the shadows now prowls beneath the moon, taking on the flesh of our storyweaver in order to deceive our brethren.
By Amanda Starksabout 11 hours ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.