There really isn't anything else to say.
I'm creative, but I'm better in a team.
And since my other half and I are no longer... Well, I find myself lacking in interest or creative juices.
Sad.
*sigh*
Oh well.


Sunday Night NewsI've never had tequila Although the idea of salted limes makes my lips chap And I'm trying too hard again Harder, harder, harder I wish there was a juicer for souls Something that I could throw myself upon, Grating myself until all I am is running liquid, sticky pulp, and a bruised rind sitting dejected and used like a virgin after prom night with the star quarter back. Did you know I still think of you in the shower. As I put too much conditioner on my hair hoping to make me softer.Sunday Night News
I don't remember the last time my birthday cake was speared by candles. So many wishes untried. &nbs


HopingAnd the air is violent with our fingers crossed We are hope,Hoping
hoping for hope,
hopefully hoping against hope
that
this
is
the day
The day that we are spared
the wonder
and
the wonderment
that we are spared
the questioning of questions going unknowing,
unknowingly Into the bleakness,
The
Bleak
Nest
We are praying,
&nb


SunriseMeow says the cat And the streetlight carefully answers back Blink, blinkSunrise
Growing faint A lightbulb can only burn so bright
And there are strangers on the curb And they're begging for your change And a place to stay Give us a place to stay
They never did say when the sun would rise again


Working TitleWe lay in bed, our fingers snaking their way toward each other, and I listened to her tell me stories of Genesis, the beginning.Working Title
"When Adam ate of the fruit," she began. "He choked as he swallowed, realizing too late the seriousness of what he had done; his sin caught in his throat.
And so, the fruit then changed and became part of his body. A hard swell of flesh
rising under the skin, it remained there for all time after as a reminder of
man's disobedience."
"And that," she said, kissing my throat.
"Is where Ada


I Dream of Being a Writer.I mistook ink for tea and called it Scolding as it ran down my favorite dress.I Dream of Being a Writer.
I never was good at sitting up straight.
My mother whispered there was something "wicked" about me, but for the life of me, I wouldn't ask her why she bothered covering her mouth when I could still hear her.
A dreaming child,
I'd tell myself stories for hours, and make-believe that any second now, I'd wake up, and real life would begin.
But with an amber smile, I felt the decay, and as I grew older, I'd listen to my mother screaming &nb


CHAIN 1 : HomesickOriginal Poem: HomesickCHAIN 1 : Homesick
By Salli Shepherd (salshep)
Do not let them see you blink, Mother said, so I am careful to turn away when my eyes dry out. My grip on the brush is clumsy. Colours speck and dazzle, slop like foam on rocks;
the teacher dabs their brilliance from my flaking arms. Children whisper
behind starfish hands; they go to play in the bright, hot yard but I stay in, as Mother told me. Below the window theres a tank of golden fish that circle, circle, following their own reflections.
I dip my fi
--
[link] - A group collaboration open to the community that wishes to breathe new life into the story that started it all, Adam and Eve. Interested? Click link for news article. XD
Your right.
That was yours. It was in the wrong folder. Hi, I'm scatterbrained. Nice to meetcha.
Love you, Maggie.
--
xoMorgan
~*~Illusion~*~
--
I Gave You My Purity
My Purity You Stole
I love you.
I think that's all that matters.
(And I wonder if you've received my surprise yet...)
--
xoMorgan
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