Jaimie, really?
Daily writing promptWhat's a job you would like to do for just one day?
Drill sergeant.
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Untitled poem
A mist lies low in the valley of my chest: A flimsy veil o'er pain – dark grey monolith That cannot be moved. The shifting of plates Leaves its mark on the earth. It cannot be reversed. But I still know this land. The shifting of plates Does not
An open letter to a person I hate(d)
I felt hate for you, and now all I feel is tired.
Episode 2
chapter 2 the foil The days passed with the monotonous, but pleasant, hum of repetitious manual labor, with products to show for it. Jilyan began to suspect that during her cushiony childhood, she had missed out. When she caught her reflection in the mirror pane in the anteroom of the
[Title?], Work-in-Progress - Episode 1
Thank you for lighting the fire underneath me to get started, Kelsey. :) prologue He looked from over the edge of the railing, what he had once jokingly called “the Balustrade.” The wood beneath his hand was ragged. The ground on which his eyes fell was ragged. For a moment -