so many years, I hid away. uresponsible and free I farmed out the essential beneath a dome for 3. Nah— a dome of four., Me, I, her— and she Four worlds, one mind Parallel In time collective …are we.

I checked out some of the active members and oh boy everyone is way older and experienced and it shows in thier writings, i hope to reach similar level one day. Here's one confessional piece that shows my writing style and structure nicely in short length. I'll be happy to have some reviews. {No name yet} How did the man who caged the parrot felt? Did he ever realised he had caged her? Did he never thought to himself "I shall release it?" Did he loved her? Yet kept her caged? Is it because deep down he knew, he could never make her stay Just with the care he could muster? Did he loved so much yet couldn't love at all?

This is for the ones who are just starting, coming back or are in a moment where the blank page sits and waits: For the days the words don’t come. Sit with silence like an old friend. Start ugly. Begin broken. Finish gently. Let it go. And when the world asks what you made... say only this: “I made a way back to myself"

I started life a little late, A story I've carried with me. I couldn't read till I was eight. wore masks, built to protect me. My scattered brain, with jumbled words. The pictures moved so fast, I tried to catch what most would see, but stumbled in the dark.

There's this cafe I used to go to– I lived just down the road. With mismatched, gray and salmon tiles. For years, it felt like home. I left the suburb a while ago, thinking that it was best. The fence that borders our little home, surrounded by my ex. The yellow door that kept us safe, windows of painted glass. I walked through shattered glass.