andrew mitchell > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

A cemetery without crosses is just a stake to a claim.

The address was no more a door to your window while the roof had you covered.

Seek me not, for my heart is weathered and my love is weary. I have no more vests to lay over muddy waters, chivalry now my last forte. Send me..

We walk the lightonly to explorethe dark in sleepto awakenthe dreamswe seek.

One can only spy upon oneself looking back at memories.

Time offers you a hand but only if you take part.

The fear he feels is fear itself through eye sockets empty the mandible speaks teeth chatter as the mind swings on anxiety thoughts, the neck b..

All things covered are a shadow of self given the map of darkness.

Through the incantations within I am here. I am here. The I in me has decided with regret that the me in you will be withdrawn as I seek to..

Love in the sixties - a peg holds onto a line carrying the weight of baby clothes.