Borrowed Time - "My Sweetest What'll"

…wish the rain would come down smooth and slow, instead it’s just these buckets of sorrow. I refuse to edit myself as my tears fall and I say goodbye. You know more than anyone what the enslavement of my “Baggage” left me with. As I left the hospital I struggled to breath and speak with nothing more than a backpack and a plane ticket. I tried to play cool and I tried to avoid being seen.

Believe it or not I was once innocent, full of life and love. We were in the beginning happy and full of romance. When…

By Michael Vegas Gialketsis

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An Open Letter: To the One that Got Away

A love lost is a lesson learned

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…I love you! I always have and always will. I realize I might love a memory, a shadow in my mind, that may no longer exist. All these years that have passed have not been kind to me, I hope they have been to you. I see you have kids, and it looks like your happy, but I know that I am only seeing the surface. You are, and always were, more then you appeared to be.

I’m sorry I was not good enough, I’m sorry I didn’t try enough, I’m sorry I never expressed how I felt. I think…

By Wil R. P. McCarthy

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Ravings of a Madman

A series of free writing, to help me cope with my insanity.

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… even though he was alone and sad, he did not give in. He railed against the universe. "you might hate me, you might want me to suffer" he announced seemingly to himself "But, I will not give up." he yelled into the darkness that seemed to always surround him. "I know my worth, I might doubt myself but, I am a good and decent person and one day it will matter" he screamed nearly in tears. And then he turned quietly away from his demons, knowing they would still be there in the morning and tried to sleep…

By Wil R.P. McCarthy

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Pathologically Disconnected, or, Why I Write Novels

…handed my college buddy a small magazine clipping with a photograph of some place with trees and water. I’d just had a very nice visit there, in fact. Then I ripped out the page I was looking at and cut the place out.
“What is it?”

I was excited to explain the birthday gift. “It’s a. . .it’s a ‘place-to-be’. You look at it and you can picture yourself in the picture, anywhere in the picture you want. . .Like I did. When I looked at it; it was a really cool picture that…

By Gabriella L Garlock

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Food Ramble

… for bread. The bread is driving her crazy. How dare we forget the bread?

The bread we got was not good enough. I don’t get it.

White bread isn’t that great. Neither is potato, white rice, and chicken. They’re boring, so boring. Like ordering pizza every week. The same food every day and going to repeat next week like a merry-go-round. Round and round these dishes good.

Who knew that the thought what’s for dinner could be so depressing?

I eat salad everyday for lunch, yet that’s somehow better. It goes through much more changes. It’s bright and fun compared…

By Clare Mac

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The Truth About June

…surgery for what they suspected was a large hematoma but instead turned out to be a massive seroma infection right on top of my femoral bypass graph. I was left with a softball sized gaping hole in my groin. They couldn’t close it up because they had to remove all of my destroyed flesh. Twenty-four hours later I endured an attached muscle flap surgery that the surgeon said was even more painful than open heart surgery. They cut me from my knees to my hip bone, removed my outer thigh muscle—bent it sideways and filled in the hole. My…

By Bonnie Wheeler

Twitter: BonnieWheeler1

Facebook URL: https://www.facebook.com/bonnie.wheeler.58

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A page in the diary of a sinner

…slowly transitioning into old age, dad has learnt how to use the internet, basically to get acquainted to local news and hotly debated political issues. However, for some days, I had been noticing that he was busy reading some kind of story or blog in English. While I jokingly teased him from time to time for returning back to those old college days, reading English like a child (since most of his life was devoted to speaking French at work), I never took the time to actually listen to what he was reading aloud. Then that fatal day occurred when I figured out that what he was actually reading was an absolutely detailed sexual performance between the characters…

By Anonymous

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Dealer

…that now serve a purpose but once were shoved into the far recesses of my mind. Kept rather than discarded so that at one point, retrieval would be tricky, yet still possible. I now understand that many of my memories are just that. My memories. Other people that were present remember the happenings of a given day, yet they remember the experience first hand. They remember it from their point of view. They will remember what they saw, what they heard, what and how they felt and sometimes even what they tasted and smelled. Our memory holds onto everything, sometimes…

By Kelli J Gavin

Twitter: KelliJGavin

Facebook URL: Kelli J Gavin

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My Baby Boy

My baby boy, I can't even watch him grow. I bet he's as tall as me now.
Instilled in my mind, that's broke all the time. But when I close my eyes I see his smile.
 
"Daddy Lets Go!" Squirt guns! Backyard! It's going down! Clothes Drenched! Oh my.
Monsters Inc. Falling asleep on me. I won't even move, I'm just gonna breathe.
 
My 3 song set list, my guitar gently weeps as you say "Daddy Play" an I strum till you sleep.
Do you kiss him for me? Do you tell him his Daddy loves him?
 
One day he'll know this Mountain I'm climbing, the battle I'm fighting! He's why I'm striving.
I'll see you soon Emmy cause I won my war! I'm beat an torn but for all the more!
 
I'll throw you up in the air again even when your ten!
 
Cause I love an miss you so much!
Until I see you again!

By Vegas Gialketsis
 
Website: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/vegas-gialketsis
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/michael.gialketsis.9

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The Tuner

The car is finally looking the way she is meant to.
Sexy stock spoiler,
Chrome tipped exhaust pipe,
Tinted windows,
Black rims,
All on a rustless white body resting over four new tires.
Over the upcoming months her engine is going to be tuned to tear the track apart.
The chumps at the track won’t know what hit them when this sleeper wakes up.
Soon her new paintjob will have her sparkling brighter than ever.
The chase is for people who love their car and know what it’s capable of.

 

By Jay Cook

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