Caitlin Nicole > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

The bruise he slapped across her face, Is hidden with makeup without a trace, The tears that are her lullaby, Are just faint streaks she will d..

“Run! Faster!” My mind tells me. “Hurry! Before he catches up to you!” So tell me, where do you think I am? What d..

Greg F. Hives was once a employee of my mother’s. Yes, my dead mother was once Greg’s boss. I remember being in the car with my mom on ..

I’m walking through the woods. Its’ cold. Way too cold. I don’t know how I’m going to make it. The wind is making my ears an..

The note that I left Greg was this: Greg, I hate to repeat myself but I can’t stress this fact enough. You ruined my and my mother’..

The last memory of my mother was nothing I’m proud of. She was crying on the sofa. She was telling me about something Greg said to her that hu..

An hour later we landed in Missouri. “More than half way home,” I tell myself. I watch the buildings that pass out the window of the..

You speak the stories I’ve never heard, I’m still dwelling on every word, Your first assumed virgin kiss, Is doused in drunkenness yo..

Alone in her home with a knot is all ready, And the stool right below is solid and steady, With a sorrow so deep she tied that rope tight, And hu..