Tags » Writing

Another Portrait

I treat the words as a painter and his brushes. What could my world be? I’m just a product of these things.

A ghost hidden among sincerity and anguish. 848 more words


The Endless Road

After Boston and Canada they began their slow crawl on America’s freeways. When Meg climbed onto the tour bus each day she felt a wave of despondency hit her with the smell of boiled feet. 265 more words


Did you get it?

For those of you who have added your email address to the Sign Me Up button, you should now have received a copy of my short story Free as a Bird which won the Eileen Gilmour Creative Writing competition a couple of years ago. 289 more words


Random Untitled piece of trash. I quit writing. I suck and this is all just repetitive nonsense

This Is just me being depressed again, cause it’s what I usually feel. Cause happiness is fleeting it seems. Oh well whatever.

Swallowing the whole bottle just to feel alive. 286 more words


While I'm on a break from writing here's some unfinished pieces about love, and my family and more love stuff and flowers and sadness.

This has something to do with me growing up

Somewhere between age 7 and 21 I lost sight of who I was, who i wanted to be, as a kid I wanted nothing more than to just fly a plane and look out at the endless sky. 929 more words



I stepped into myself then,
After you left me
I thought I was alone at times
Grew to know myself more, deeper, ever than before… 116 more words


Douceur / Douleur

You can burn away your mind and still be afraid to die. Everything seems to burn away when people see through closed eyes.

Running through the midnight air to escape the demons I see behind me out of blatant paranoia. 561 more words