Standing on the knife
I hear death’s subtle whisper
Daring me to fall
How does it work?
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.
More stories from Torren Gustavsen and writers in Poets and other communities.
Like a little child I sit upon her shoulders A place of wonder
By Torren Gustavsen3 years ago in Poets
They told me I was damned, but then they made me saved. Unholy. They made me holy. They said I was in pieces, damaged and afraid.
By Amanda Abela7 days ago in Poets
gushing and swirling my glass is overflowing water keeps running
By Tina D. Lopeza day ago in Poets
My parents gave me my first cell phone when I was twelve years old. It wasn't a fancy iPhone or anything, not even close. Just a simple black flip phone for when I needed to call or text them after school.
By Madison "Maddy" Newtonabout 20 hours ago in Humans
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.