Learn how to write
Or may your days be blue now
and forever live
I write to be free.
How does it work?
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.
More stories from Diane Michelle Campbell and writers in Poets and other communities.
Blue jeans tighter, friend? May I sit next to you then? I hope you like me.
By Diane Michelle Campbell3 years ago in Poets
Something sits at the end of my tongue. A memory that is unable to form into words. A distant train bellows with the same frustration that pollutes the whites of my eyes.
By Amanda Abela3 days ago in Poets
She slept a good while. Until the daisies alerted her. Then she snoozed on wafts of clover, then woke again. This up and down fiction suited her well.
By Paul Aaron Domenickabout 19 hours ago in Poets
This story was originally published 2 years ago. In Memory of T.M. The ashes arrived in a beautiful hand-carved wooden box. When I saw it, it was displayed next to a little porcelain figurine of a mother and son elephant.
By Mezmur7 days ago in Confessions
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.