Writing Prompt

He was very grounded, his head lower than most. It didn’t stop him from speaking up when he saw others challenging him. They would call him on his height, jest at his anger.

Berating them black and blue was the only self defence for the little man. Sure he was short, hence why he’s so earthly, but it’s what keeps him sensitive and in touch with him feminine qualities, such how he doesn’t hit othe...

So please oh please don’t treat it the same

As people on a chess board caught in check

So you must realize we are all a wreck

In this world full of pain, but not only

Heartache but we are not lonely.

The people we have and loved ones we care

For all may share

The worries and thoughts we can’t help think

So before you judge just know we aren’t all in sync.

We are all different in our own way

But t...

Try so hard. Never being enough.

All the oppressive words of this world making me feel I am not worthy of love.

I am worthy. But how could I be?

The life I wanted is something I cannot see.

To hear the harmful words of my peers,

Is to rip my heart out and scream through the tears.

Why would I even try anymore,

If the world is as it currently is, not as it was before

We all became the scared and...

He was the kind of man who never had a good word to say about anybody. His face was so often frowning, it seemed stuck that way. He would sit on his porch and glare at the world, and everyone - even children, even animals - knew to give him a wide berth when they walked down the street.

And yet every month, a letter arrived in his mailbox, confirming the deposit of his stock dividends to one of a...

He won’t put it away in a drawer. He can’t imagine hiding it under slippery stacks of magazines, stained clothes, unread books. He coils the thin chain through his fingertips, tips the pendant through the tepid sunlight that filters through his dorm room window. It’s a foreign, inscrutable thing. A silver hexagon etched with unintelligible script. He thinks it’s old, maybe even ancient. Maybe he c...

“Would you, though?”

“Would I what?”

“Fuck her, dude.”

Mae froze outside the trailer door, holding her clipboard tighter to her chest.

Their voices come through tinny and unreal.

“She’d probably bite my dick off.”

“That’s not a no,” Tom said.

“I mean… those tits…” Mark replied.

Mae looked down at her scoop-neck shirt, then shut her eyes against the the welling tears that seemed to sit...

It’s not my fault I wronged her, if you could even call it that.

Because when she moved her stupid mouth,

she was just a spoiled brat.

She always talked about her family, the good of every day,

But she never stopped to wait and think of intentions gone astray.

Not all of us are lucky, in fact most of us are not.

For when I go home late at night, I wish my ears to rot.

My music wards of fi...

“I like cookies,” said John. Everyone now liked him....

I had to clean up the mess. This was the worst part of the process. Blood is such a mess I can’t even stand it. It gets everywhere. I’ve learned that draining them in a tub works. Just confines it to one area.

The clothes I usually just drop in different donation bins. And the hair gets tossed in the school bins around campus. I’ve been quite good at the whole thing. I have it down to a routine....

My brother was no murderer. He was not going to kill that despicable nobody who stole his soulmate from him. He only challenged him to a duel to scare him. Then the dishonorable piece of scum shot him in cold blood. So, despite what some may think, my brother was completely innocent in this affair. People don’t understand his position in life. They judge much too harshly! My brother was the eldest...