Tai Ryens > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

Welcome to the boneyard, where not even the winds blow.

When the tears don't fall.

Kiss of a gun . . .

Drowning, except without the dying . . .

'Twas a burden to have control etched deep into my wooden ligaments: strings meant to be played by the players with knowledge of how to ass..

Would you do the honor?

Dreams never to come true~

Did I just kill myself with glass?

God, what have I done?

Stale boots tap as they abrade stepping stones Etched with memories of those beneath; Fatigued eyes scan the meadow counting roses, Expecti..