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my best friend
The day we met, i never thought such an awesome friend i ll get.. In our first encounters, We used to fight like monsters.. I knw earlier you thought i m a proud guy,
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- 507 reads
They Only Come Out At Night.
'I have a theory that the truth is never told during the nine-to-five hours'- Hunter S. Thompson.
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- 398 reads
The Mulrooney's - Part Six
After dinner, Jay and Sarah Clark sat back on the sofa and opened the Mulrooney Family album. “Oh, my gosh!” said Sarah, “It’s a picture of our house! Holy crow! How about that!"
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- 673 reads
Happiness is...
A sweet poem about happiness written on a Wednesday
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- 439 reads
touching wood
I've been touching wood a lot because of recent vivid dreams watched that dead baby's body rot the world unravel at the seams London's waiting up ahead tapping at her watch
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- 542 reads
The Mulrooney's - Part Five
“Who is he calling a mope?” said Mr. Mulrooney. “Pay him no mind, dear,” said Regina. “Perhaps he said mops.” “No, Mother,” said Dickie. “It was definitely mopes.”
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- 731 reads
Poison Teardrops
These flowers are called poison teardrops due to their shape and their deadly poisonous flavour.
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- 512 reads
"LOVE" is a verb
Rambling blog on the thoughts around a line or two of poetry
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- 587 reads
The Mulrooney's - Part Four
“Do you hear that?” said Jay. “Hear what?” said Sarah. “Squeaky shoes.”
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- 671 reads