writings
(Sorry this is late, I thought I uploaded this before bed last night but apparently the ADHD won. This is a prologue to something I've been mulling over for about two years now and just recently found the beginning. Enjoy!) He heaved, his arms and shoulders straining as
writings
I am no longer accepting anymore shit By this, I do not mean I am no longer shitting My bowel movements may not be regular But believe me, I would much rather have them! I may not enjoy shitting But imagine if I had to carry All of that shit
writings
(in case you need a refresher) The Lock and The Key: Chapter 1Real ill writing from a real, ill writer.Orpheus Wren's WritingsOrpheus Wren "May I ask your name? Or at least what I may call you that I am capable of remembering?" Lane asked, peeking
writings
“Name?” the bosun asked the man in front of Jeb and his mate Scab, the same as he'd asked the first dozen men, more than likely. This time Jeb was close enough to hear what was being said. The bosun didn't sound bored yet, that was
writings
What Can I Even Say? What do you want, what can I even say? It's a struggle right now just to breathe To remind myself they crave my hate It's the spider's spell they try to weave They want us to fight so they
writings
Please enjoy these three poems from Taking the Long Road Out of Hell! If you like these, the book is available over on my Ko-fi and you can pay (or not pay!) whatever seems reasonable to your wallet. And don't give me that crap about "but I
writings
Jesse slammed the door to him room, threw his backpack into the corner of his room, flopped onto the beanbag hard enough he heard a seam pop, then reached for the pillow from his bed nearby and used it to smother a snarling scream. He heard the swift approaching steps
writings