I write because I read. I read because I write.
after more than a decade of virtual hugs and late night chats, the four girlfriends have finally met again for a summer picnic. two married, one engaged, one still single, they've bonded because of one common denominator: a guy they played love with. a nerd from college who's known for his ragged blue jeans and an old-day-smelling shirt. under the hot sun with… Continue reading The Picnic
Smiling sun always arrive with the hope of a better life. Maybe we are the only exception. The poor ones inside a rich legion. Dark nights are definitely ours, but mornings restart our hearts’ wars. Once the sun rays start to shine, they remind me you are not mine. — Photo credit: Unsplash In response to OctPoWriMo… Continue reading Abandonment: An Aubade
You have dangerous eyes. They trapped me willingly, like a lunatic lost in love and lies. Close it so I’ll see light. I don’t need rescuing, my mind can regain its own wit and fight. Alone I will be fine. Like a new butterfly flying I’ll flourish, exist on my own, all mine. — Photo… Continue reading Dangerous: A Deten
Words slipping through your sweet, lying tongue, smell as fragrant as wildflowers in bloom. But when they went inside my heart and my mind, your tasty letters are cursed with unending gloom. — Photo credit: Unsplash In response to OctPoWriMo 2016 by Morgan Dragonwillow‘s Day 6. The Tango is an invented stanzaic form introduced by Chiquita LoJuana Gonzolas Sills. The… Continue reading Tasty: A Tango
Purple- colored skin throbs. Even after tear’s flow stopped. Each strong blow leaves brutal, deep marks. Skin to soul, she's left scarred and scathed. — Photo credit: Unsplash In response to OctPoWriMo 2016 by Morgan Dragonwillow‘s Day 4. --- *Pensee found in the Caulkins Handbook stresses exact syllable count and strong end words. This invented verse form was first… Continue reading Purple: A Pensee*
I’m an audience for decades now but no one knows I’m watching. — 1945 “Ssshhh,” I whispered to myself. Hiding behind my wooden closet across my huge mirror, trembling with fear, I am finding it hard to breathe. “Please, Lord, don’t let them see me, please, oh please.” — 2015 “You’re such a beautiful lass,” I… Continue reading Mirror: Fiction with Vignettes
The same rugged, masculine yet gentle hands which tickled each nerves and gave me sensual goosebumps, have weaved yarnful of lies that ended my life. — ©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo credit: Philip Estrada In response to Sonya of Only 100 Words‘ Three Line Tales Week Thirty-Three. If you want to join, here are the simple rules: Write… Continue reading Dual Hands
I'm fine with hurting even with bruising as long as I'm bleeding with you. — 04.11.2016 ©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer Photo credit: Unsplash
if only you had listened through silence felt my cold absence seen my dark shadows taste my bitter wallows we could have been--- if only. — 04.05.2016 ©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer Photo credit: Unsplash
Carefully choosing among the sharp, the hard, the brute and the bad, my shaking hand grazes the powerful tools’ varied edges as it discerns what it’ll use to you and your mistress. — ©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo credit: Ashim D’Silva In response to Sonya of Only 100 Words‘ Three Line Tales Week Twenty-Eight. If… Continue reading Pick One
A Reading Writer 