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get the words out.
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elissanelson
I’m one of the faceless ones. Like if I disappeared, no one would quite be able to describe me. My mom, probably, but maybe not anyone at school. Not my teachers, not my classmates—I can see the look on Samantha’s face when she realizes she can’t describe me, she’d(more)
mactheknife
Poetry should read early in the morning
so that if feels like you're dreaming it
a personal message to you from the
proverbial mysterious stranger
but not not just any stranger
this one paints fabulous worlds on page (more)
yummycatt
Davy Jones is dead.
Nothing makes sense anymore.