Drowned in an ocean
Of my own making, the tide
Looked so inviting
Married Midwesterner who loves reading, writing, and cats.
Part-time daydreamer, full-time nerd.
How does it work?
i really love this piece
More stories from M Dannenfelser and writers in Poets and other communities.
Don't walk home alone
Your spirit may burn bright, but
Darkness will find you
By M Dannenfelser11 months ago in Poets
Up the stairway
And through the hallway
Lie a very rich old man
He was a stringy little maggot
They called him Scrooge in the end
By Sarah Danaher5 days ago in Poets
The feelings have no edges.
They are smooth blue.
Blue like early winter, evening breath.
Vapor that moves through everything, unencumbered.
By L4 days ago in Poets
In response to a challenge set by Vocal Assist. You can find it here should you wish to be involved!
The crisp winter air bit at Talia's skin as she stepped off the bus. Her breath formed small clouds in front of her as she walked. The once-familiar streets of her hometown were now indistinct. As if trapped in a memory of a memory she could not remember. The grey, unobtrusive December sky did little to calm her rising anxiety. She had not returned in twenty years. And for good reason.
By Celia in Underland2 days ago in Fiction