A memoir about Lucy, a majestic but murderous doggo.
The picture is just a random dog from Unsplash.
||
For exclusive content and more, visit my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/bruvton
A never-been-seen before account of the scariest moment of my life.
Okay, maybe it's embellished a little bit. Some details were added to create drama. And it's a big hyperbole.
Shes shed a lot of tears these last few years. || 111 words in length, memoir about growing up trans. Not a comic like my older ones, but short and sweet like them.
Those purple and green hills I long for
A memoir about a place that I once spent a great deal of time in contemplation.
A tad late for the prompt but ey well.
I lost my great grandfather to Alzheimer on a rainy October day six years ago now. This poem is for him; it’s the words I’ve never been able to write down ever since I lost him. Too afraid of facing m...
Sweating, I walked into my dad’s workout room, over to his cupboard. The cupboard that he thought we knew nothing about, where he kept his money, his phone, and our phones when we were grounded. I ope...
this is my story on growing up with eczema. idk if anyone will even be bothered to read this, i just wanna put this out there to try and help at least one person with eczema not feel as alone.
Seeing you again feels like a dream, and by experience, I’ve learnt that dreams could end anytime. You need to write them down: they will live as memories if you hold onto them and never let go.
A memoir about Lucy, a majestic but murderous doggo.
The picture is just a random dog from Unsplash.
||
For exclusive content and more, visit my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/bruvton
A never-been-seen before account of the scariest moment of my life.
Okay, maybe it's embellished a little bit. Some details were added to create drama. And it's a big hyperbole.
Shes shed a lot of tears these last few years. || 111 words in length, memoir about growing up trans. Not a comic like my older ones, but short and sweet like them.
Those purple and green hills I long for
A memoir about a place that I once spent a great deal of time in contemplation.
A tad late for the prompt but ey well.
I lost my great grandfather to Alzheimer on a rainy October day six years ago now. This poem is for him; it’s the words I’ve never been able to write down ever since I lost him. Too afraid of facing m...
Sweating, I walked into my dad’s workout room, over to his cupboard. The cupboard that he thought we knew nothing about, where he kept his money, his phone, and our phones when we were grounded. I ope...
this is my story on growing up with eczema. idk if anyone will even be bothered to read this, i just wanna put this out there to try and help at least one person with eczema not feel as alone.
Seeing you again feels like a dream, and by experience, I’ve learnt that dreams could end anytime. You need to write them down: they will live as memories if you hold onto them and never let go.