Sir Yakuraii
With shaking feet you stood strong
Staying Death's wet hand.
About the Creator
Kai K Colby
pursuing my passion and my dream
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More stories from Kai K Colby and writers in Poets and other communities.
Dante Thomas Wentingworth
I leave my car and rush for the rotting wooden stairs leading up to the sliding glass door I've entered through since I was a young child. My chest is tight with sorrow and trepidation, but it does not stave my hand from gripping and pulling at that door, pushing my way inside, and pushing back the sob that pulls at my throat.
By Kai K Colby3 years ago in Petlife
Thirty (one) and Neither Flirty nor Thriving.
I'm thirty-one and orbiting the same few mistakes like they're landmarks. London is already awake before I am (or before I've slept) - sirens somewhere far enough to ignore, buses sighing at stops, people moving with purpose I can't quite borrow. I lie there for a bit, tasting last night at the back of my throat, trying to remember if I meant to drink that much or if it just...happened again.
By Stacey Vellaa day ago in Psyche
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