I have a blog at [link] and a livejournal under the same screen name as this one. Those'll be my main journals -- in the meantime, good luck with your creations, and may my writing only go uphill from here!


decaffeinatedThey sit at their coffee haunts, their corner Starbucks, holding a biscotti but wishing it was a cigarette.decaffeinated
A nibble and a sip. Idle conversations. Corporate stepstools leading to basements with glass ceilings. "I hate what I've become," she tells her cloudy-eyed friend. The man nods, his reaction only an umbrella, keeping her safe from the misplaced sentiment sitting before her.
He nods, only out of jealousy. envy. spite. You hate what you've become, words ricocheting against the broken pencils, the looseleaf
cobwebs

where they mayLeaves flit and flutter in the breeze Each one covers just a bit of earth falling in a almost mathematical, surely divine pattern around me Trying to shake the needles out of my hair nestled in the thick of things along with errant thoughts Standing up brushing imaginary dirt tangible burdens off my clothes Watching the little patch of green I left behind slowly blend into gold and brownwhere they may


fiction is honesty incarnate"You'll always have me right here," he said, resting his hand over her left breast, approximating the size of her broken heart. She nodded and smiled, with the look of someone trying to understand why the sun rose and fell beneath the sea. "Yes, but you won't be right here," and her hands opened, palms adrift, tears crucifying her to an unkempt bed.fiction is honesty incarnate
--
[link] - Shoes Stock
[link] - Erotic Literature
[link] - Erotic poetry
Keep the great poetry up!
Emy xx
That said, I still can't wait to read more.
--
Whenever I hear anyone arguing for slavery, I feel a strong impulse to see it tried on him personally.
- Abraham Lincoln -
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