how do you know you are loved
when the words aren’t spoken
and the old ways no longer
offer themselves as proof?
longevity should count
for something, right?
but emptiness fills
the bitter whole,
dried and empty,
aggravatingly
withdrawn
and, oh
so very
cold.
A trip through life with fingers crossed and eternal optimism.
Doing the best I can with what I have
kind of sad, but not so bad with cheese. cheese not provided.
My streams of thought meet here
Conceptual Photographer and Writer
Ramblings
Killer Fiction
Music and Storytelling
Besteesydian
A bit of this...A bit of that...bit of everything...come on in...
Life in a flash - a bi-weekly storytelling blog
MARK PETRUSKA | WRITER
Short essays about novels and other fictional works
By Ian Garrabrant
Home of Micropoetry, Literature, art and philosophy.
Just a fiction writer, trying to reach the world.
I'd curtsy but I'm drunk.
Praying for Eyebrowz 
This is really beautiful!
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Thank you. I am becoming sentimental in my old age.
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beautiful and so sad at the same time
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Thank you!
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