Something Old, Something New
A marriage haiku
Cerulean eyes
Sky for sea and she for me
When she says I do
About the Creator
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More stories from Lia Mercado and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Habit That Slowly Destroyed Me
It didn’t happen overnight. If it had, maybe I would have noticed. Maybe I would have stopped. But the truth is, the habit that slowly destroyed me didn’t feel dangerous in the beginning. It felt comforting. Familiar. Almost harmless.
By Imran Ali Shah4 days ago in Poets
Babbling Dixie
The short form of tomorrow is never the whole story. Abbreviations mean nothing when we are born to die and we all are aren't we? Being spoken for before birth is something we're not supposed to remember like some kind of karma after effect. Still here we are spending our lives looking for each other.
By Canuck Scriber Lisa Lachapelle7 days ago in Fiction
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