As the tears stream down my face, I remember all our memories. I carry her in my arms, calling for help, but nobody answers. I sob and trip, but don’t fall, knowing I won’t get up. It was my idea to go swimming in the dark and it was my fault she drowned. He body was transforming to icy flesh rather than a beautiful body. I cried, knowing nothing will ever be the same. I still have a long way to g...
My guilty pleasure has always been make-up. “That’s not a guilty pleasure though.” You might say, but I don’t wear it. I eat it. People thinks it’s gross, but I think that if they tried it, they would love it too. It’s so good! At school, I always get yelled at if I ate it, so I began to put it on a sandwich at home. It definitely wasn’t as good in a sandwich, but it was better than not eating it....
It’s big city dude, scary story women, and myself. We are all sitting in a room together. The women is shaking, still recovering from her escape. I ask her if she’s okay or if she needs anything. She’s way too shook up to answer.
I’d ask the guy what he’s been up to. He starts talking about his fantastic trip to the city. He talks about all the lights and people and places. He keeps talking... an...
I hear the horns
The sirens
The people
I see the towers
The cars
And the bars
I smell the gas
The food
And the drinks
The city is busy
The city is good
There’s so much to do
So little time
The lights are glowing
And the people are cheering
All I want is a hand in mine
My hand is alone
Surrounded by many
The people
The animals
The tree
All the cars
And trucks
And things alike
All have so much ...
As our hands drifted apart, I knew this would be the last time I’d ever see her again. My eyes water up, thinking about all the great memories we’ve had together. I knew it wouldn’t last. I was a country boy. Unwilling to leave for anything. She was a city girl, going around the country for fun. I was the first time she took more than a day break. I saw her driving into town and asked her name. I ...
What the fuck do I do. I barely knew who I am with or what I would do with my life, let alone preach to thousands of people about what theirs is. I call myself down, thinking of what I could possibly say. Maybe I should just make an excuse that the speaker is sick. What if this is permanent though? Then I’m just delaying the nerves. I decide I have to do it. I decide to go with the little knowled...