Michelle Long > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

Walk through this park, a stranger you see. Pass my direction and a stranger you will be. On this darkened, docile day, "made from strings"..

Tiny midnight bird alone in the sky, resting after it's morning fly. It begins to sing a beautiful cry; preaching sigh. Again, midnight..

To you, life is a game of Russian rullet; Every abuse irrevocably adding a bullet; Every cut tightening the grip. You won't stop till the trigger i..

Together we stand, Making up the snow-white abyss. Our souls, alike, become one. Then I realize how only a memory is this. And how the love I once..

You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone away. Until then it’s easy for you to sit back and say, That you just don&rs..

Because of you, my heart's an empty box; Your memory suppressed deeply in my thoughts. All of the beautiful facades stapled on like pins. Never f..

You told me “forever”, and I thought it was true. I hoped it’d meant, forever would remain, together forever, me and you. Bu..

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Around my neck Memory thrusts a rope, while in the distance a piercingly horrid scream I cannot help but to merely lose all hope, when life's becam..