The Kites We Fly

Honest Lies

By Brian GradyPublished 2 years ago • 1 min read

Photo by Rodion Kutsaiev on Unsplash

Fabricating Lies

An Author's Honest Living

Fiction Fills Blue Skies

nature poetry

About the Creator

Brian Grady

I love writing and storytelling, short stories & children's picture books, creatively writing and rule bending. Enjoy and let me know what you think!

I guess I really,

love haikus too. If you'd please

give them a good read.

-Brian

Enjoyed the story?
Support the Creator.

Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.

Subscribe For Free Pledge Your Support

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments (1)

Jessica M2 years ago
Ha I never thought about writing this way

Keep reading

More stories from Brian Grady and writers in Poets and other communities.

Where In My Comfort
There on the couch I'll find comfort Two kittens purring There where you lived I look out over the valley A neighborhood abandoned
By Brian Grady2 years ago in Poets
Why is it still dawn?
It's an understatement to call it the naked truth Whereas it nakens inferior parts of us that have been scorched by the naked truth. I'm entitled to the gratitude of these thoughts They help keep me entertained While pain is the most forced about Entertainment of ages that our hearts keep being glued too. Why do I try to run away from something that knows my end to finish? I'm troubled by the past that keeps on predicting my future. Having a good heart only led me astray But - why is it still Dawn? If I've got guardian angels watching over me Bottled up emotions turned to ashes Meant to be thrown away into the ocean. Trying to revive the energy of my living being I'm stuck between knowing our failures and rewriting better explanations for old mistakes. The explicit bandage exposing our wounds has us feeling dead while we're told to - Breath. If hell really exists then going to heaven would be my greatest sin I'm not fond around people that try to justify the good things one can achieve if they follow the - Word. The word is what you make of it And I've not only lost hope but the real definition seems to have lost it's meaning. But here is another word with a crucified meaning - Why Is It Still Dawn?
By Irvin 2 days ago in Poets
Believe Me Then
When I am bleeding out... When my blood spills on the ground... When they're loading another round... Will you believe me then?
By CD Turner4 days ago in Poets
I First Saw Him
When I first saw him sitting on the wall, relaxed and looking out over the water, I was sure he wasn't a local. Not including children, there are only about 250 or 300 of us in this area full-time, though that number is ten-fold in the summer, and I know everyone at least by sight or by family resemblance. And yet, the way he sat looked familiar and started my mind sorting and discarding among the families I knew, not quite like this one, not quite like that one.
By Natalie Wilkinson7 days ago in Fiction

Written by Brian Grady

The Kites We Fly

Honest Lies

About the Creator

Brian Grady

Enjoyed the story? .css-e39cfn-Box{display:inline-block;}@media (min-width:30em){.css-e39cfn-Box{display:inline;}}Support the Creator.

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

Comments .css-4do22h{color:var(--text-default-mute);}.css-1svwz57-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-default-mute);}(1)

Keep reading

Where In My Comfort

Why is it still dawn?

Believe Me Then

I First Saw Him

Enjoyed the story?
Support the Creator.

Comments (1)