- Member since March 24, 2006.
- I have 3 comments, 105 poems, 7 stories
My Stories
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They carried Kaylin in on a stretcher. He was deathly pale underneath the dried blood. Almost dead. His breathing was fast, shallow, wet. I was sure blo
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The house was humongous. Yeah okay, I forgot Cambriari was rich. What people he killed to get that way, I’ll never know. Not quite sure if I want to know. &nb
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I hate Alabama. I don't want to offend any of you Alabama-lovers, but it's a very barren state - at least all of the towns I've been to have been dull and lifeless.
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The gun was rested against the back of my head, my hands held tightly behind my back. With blood trickling into my eyes from a gash to the head, I couldn't see how many
My Poetry
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Somehow everything seemed distorted
And I knew I needed you
