Beeme

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryRhapsody in Blue skinner_jennifer102 years 5 days ago
StoryGreen (IP) seashore122 years 3 months ago
StoryDarling around you Nolan412 years 11 months ago
StoryYou Cost Me My Summer smokejack24 years 3 weeks ago
StoryOptimist in love with a pessimist smokejack34 years 3 weeks ago
StoryAll Gods smokejack34 years 3 weeks ago
StoryAfghanistan smokejack44 years 3 weeks ago
StoryEngland's High Street smokejack14 years 3 weeks ago
StoryA little drop of poison smokejack14 years 3 weeks ago
StoryFinite's Lost Arrow smokejack14 years 3 weeks ago
StoryHush! To sleep! Nolan165 years 5 months ago
Storystarry night Nolan206 years 2 months ago
StoryWhite Surf Nolan177 years 1 month ago
StoryResurrection (IP) seashore248 years 1 month ago
Story3am Verity Valentine38 years 2 months ago
Story'Don't Try' Ewan28 years 7 months ago
StoryGonubie Nolan1810 years 1 month ago
StoryAs good as it gets AliciaB710 years 2 months ago
StoryAnxiety of Night elz210 years 3 months ago
StoryBoo hoo boy celticman410 years 4 months ago
StoryPicture at an Exhibition Silver Spun Sand1110 years 10 months ago
StoryShape shifter Beeme611 years 5 months ago
StoryDarkness Beeme1112 years 8 months ago
StoryDance with me Beeme1112 years 8 months ago
StoryCowboy Beeme712 years 8 months ago

My collections

My stories

Cherry

Shape shifter

I am five when I tell my mother that I have been eaten. My mum returns as a crow, she reads up on anorexics; picking at bones with her circled beak...
1 likes

It is more

Starlings setting flight, your voice is an echo We don’t know terrain like oceans, don’t recognise borders Except those of fingers the bridge of hands

Rome

You never knew what I felt your voice a tolling bell, death jam; calling me out from the shadows and every time I rose again and again. Flashing like Rome mighty and eternal

Manifest

Between the wolf and girl is a hummingbird encased in red feathers, it claws at itself, shredding its feathers into its nest. Crying out as though it is caught in a nightmare.
Poem of the week

Borders

Because they have decided it would be good for me to grab some air. I step outside my hands spread out like an atlas, the compass of my pearly white body spinning, grappling

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