Random poetry and the occasional drabble or dribble of other short random thought from the depths my somewhat bemused brain, or possibly Brian if the schizophrenic misspelt pseudo entity that lives up there is up to his old tricks... poems from the Tardis like halls of my head. No genre is safe...
letters from will thomas to maine wickan in hopes that maybe she would come back, or he would move on.
because he was tate brennan and he was falling, falling, falling. because she was bay catlan and she was forever gone, gone, gone.
Pause for a second and imagine this: the person you love is dying, but you can help. You can give them a few more months to make memories, laugh, cry. But at what cost? (Thank you to @TalatheWolf for the summary)
❝ he told her the story about how the sun loved the moon so much, he died every night just to let her breathe. ❞ {memoirs from a girl who didn't realize how much he cared until it was too late.}
Was published, but is now off the market--I'm sorry! Brianne is the opposite of her best friend, Kyla. Kyla is open-minded; Brianne is closed off, judgmental. Kyla is a hopeless romantic. Brianne? Not so much. So when Kyla shoves an apple into her face telling her to throw it across the cafeteria so she can find...
Beatrix Benson was a outsider who didn't fit in at her conformist school. She'd begun to accept a life of loneliness, until the day she met Silas Ingram, the new kid from England.
