1DamagedIndividual's profile

Say It By: Bryce Lee Wynn Light from the street lamp outside sliced through the slats of the bedroom blinds, casting an ethereal glow across the pale, naked form. It flooded every nook, corner, and crevice, spreading across the desk, the pencil, the opened notebook, the chair, the dirty tube sock accented in blue, the soiled, checked boxers, the bed, the body, the man. Stony eyes, a hint of life in their glazed-over irises, stared pass the blinds, the window, the layer of frost, and out into ...

Baby It’s You He doesn’t have the heart to ask for it back. Even now, after everything that’s gone on, she has it pulled around her small frame, its well-worn, brown leather cracking in places. The name Cue-Ball is stitched in white across the back. His brother, Griffin, like so many other American boys, had been drafted in ’72. He remembers seeing Griffin loading one of those buses, his hair buzzed to the scalp – like a cue ball. That was the last time he’d seen him – they communicated throu...