Darkness paints with a wild wet brush,spreading lies and discontent.Hard to see, hard to breathe, hard to be.What’s known…
The hardest part about it was digging the hole….
Write with The Laurel Journal!
Laurel
My Laurel, my love, so bright, the mountainsthemselves could not explain your lustrous light.Even as the sun — that golden fountaindripping over…
I want to bethe waterin the lakedeep blue silkcontent in her shoresnever completely stillbut peacefulroaming bank to bankheld steadfastin…
That’s why, even now, she couldn’t blame her father for introducing her to Sawyer Hudson at seventeen…