- Reads 113
- Votes 2
- Parts 10
- Time 7m
Ongoing, First published Sep 06, 2015
The world is a large display of art. Me. You. Us. We make up what is known as earth. We make what is known as war. But me and her. We made love. We founded love on sarcasm. On smiles. On frowns. On life. Me, I wrote to her for 4 years. She, accepted my letters. Never did I fully have her. But, never did she really have me. Looking at it now it's all more simple. But to me, it was a master piece never seen or understood by others minds. Now it's clear to me many others experience what I found. What I thought was an accident. Turned out to be a horrible mystery.All Rights Reserved
Table of contents
- theatorSun, Sep 6, 2015
- wonderlustSun, Sep 6, 2015
- dreamstateTue, Sep 8, 2015
- what?Tue, Sep 8, 2015
- the start of an endless Romeo and Juliet storyTue, Sep 8, 2015
- poety for a kissTue, Sep 8, 2015
- We knew. Or did they allThu, Sep 10, 2015
- Life.Wed, Oct 14, 2015
- A thought.Sat, Oct 17, 2015
- Is that bad?Tue, Oct 20, 2015
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