(The Writer magazine word of the day, 28-day word challenge): Thread: The words flow from my head like a stream to ocean, gathering more words, keeps going until the words gather like a parade to serenade you with. A line through thoughts, a thread of common in the eclectic.
It’s too late to be wise, I once kissed guys but now I’m a solitary traveler. I miss the D but I’m not desperate. It’s been too long. I’m all alone with nothing but memories.
What’s old is sold, forgotten. These days we play games we call life.
Up late editing, no debating, no hating, just finished a new video.
I feel the tip, he gives it all to me. I was dreaming, almost screaming, everything seeming so real until I steal the ending.
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(The Writer magazine word of the day, 28-day word challenge): Flounder: Catch a wish, no fish. Dish out like a water spout. Told tales, no whales or tails, heads up, seven days, new ways, everything stays the same but different.
Almost midnight. Light on in my bedroom. Watching Danny on YouTube.
Hung out with no one, saw the sun rise above the hill tops. No cops, they’re at the donut shops. I found what I lost when I was looking for what I never had.
I rode a Greyhound from the West bound for nowhere where I’ve remained since things went down, downhill.
A memory of a time a stranger straddled me in a cheap motel. It was a strange time. I was with this one guy. Wasting time when he wasn’t going down. Drugs and wannabe thugs. I never did any. Another guy sat on me like a top waiting to spin. […]
He slid in, knees bent, he sent, no pretense, memories of back then, when I had some.
A trail. Woods. Dark except moonlight. Nothing in sight. I fight fear to steer clear of the nightmares. Who cares for me? I’m a solo traveler.
Each day I wake up I think of all the things I’ve made up.
Window, door, can’t ignore the need to be anywhere but where I am right now.
I feel like I’m racing through time towards an uncertain ending.
Early morning I ride from the bed with dreams on my head that weigh me down until I’m on the ground contemplating returning to bed to dream again.
(The Writer magazine word of the day, 28-day word challenge): Heart: It started with a feeling that moved through my body, came to rest in my heart and mind, finding myself captivated by his… I feel weak from watching him move to the rhythm. He feels good next to me, […]
Slow my breathing, takes in the moment, takes hold of his swelling, brings it to a moment but holds off on the conclusion to expand the experience.
Stay. Awake. Coffee and cake. Conversation. Late night laughter. Round table. Four chairs.