Writing Prompt

Everyone has something

That means everything to them

That has sentimental value to them

Whether that be something physical

Or something they can’t touch

But no matter

Whatever it is that’s important to us

We can’t go without it

The treasures we collect along the way

Create our memories

And they truly complete who we are

🖤...

Her name rings in my mind

My body wrapped around her skin

Kissing her cheek

As she falls asleep

You’re my beloved

You’re my one

I can count on her

For anything

She holds my hand

As I go into surgery

Waiting for me

To wake up

I could lay here

For the rest of my days

Holding hands

While we are alseep...

A knife no ordinary knife it’s antique knife

A knife to protect my self

To eat

Camping trips

Fishing with my dad

It’s life

Fought many battles

Its history from Waterloo to the present

It’s a symbol of stealth lethality manhood

It’s a saviour

Healing and cutting wounds

Beautifully crafted and cuts like a razor...

No notice to others around

Simple to others

Just a boring profound

Supporting us when the sun is low

With great strength

Of what’s on the table

A tiny decoration

That lends a large hand

White and puffy

Sometimes large

The little kids call it Duffy

Oh

I don’t get why they don’t like it

A marvelous creation

That’s what it is

No notice to others around

Simple to others

A boring profound...

Not the prompt- I started with a random word and let my middle bar finish.

Oh yea yea but it is a different colored brown brown eyes lol lol oh yeah she looks really cool lol she just looked at it she said oh yea I think she is a good friend but she is still here but I think she’s like oh no she was like a cat and I like that she didn’t even think she knew she had to go get back to the cave lol ...

puɐʇsɹǝpun noʎ uɐɔ

ʇsɐd ʎɯ

ou

ʇnq

slʇɥ pɐǝɹ uɐɔ noʎ...

It was a vacant house

full of good potato salad and Luther Vandross

sing alongs, tight roller sets, and easy laughter

cautious windows watching over the neighbors

it was an old house

first built on the block

painted brick and that tree the kids used to climb

R&B in the kitchen, bikes in the driveway

it was a nice house

first Black family on the block

hydrandreas fading pink, porch chairs empt...

I’m not referring to the Taylor Swift album though I definitely could talk about that.

It’s the age of my grandmother’s Oldsmobile.

I’m not calling my grandmother’s car old. That’s the brand of car. She refuses to drive anything else. You may not believe me, but she says if the car dies before her, she’ll stop driving.

My grandfather used to call it “the tank” for the durability of it. Nothing...

It was an old pin, bent and rusted, pockmarked with dimples. It was of a dog, with a rabbit in its mouth.

First it came to Europe from Scandinavia, by wooden ship, through hungry, untamed waved. Then to a mistress, young and black-haired, brown-eyed, in a frilly white dress, a banquet of yellow, handpicked flowers in her delicate hands.

Then to her daughter, black hair and curls like the moon, ea...

This isn’t finished yet because I don’t even know how it ends myself, so I hope you guys can wait an indefinite period of time for part two, lol! 😂

“What am I going to do now?” Blake pondered after another lead failed. “She must have given this to me for a reason…” Blake’s voice trailed off as he turned the snow globe in his hand.

“Blake, I think you should stop this, it’s turning into an obse...