A collaboration of of fifty-nine on the cadence of broken hearts and hope! Enjoy!
Your Q&A questions for 100 followers answered!
Thank you infinitely for your support!
Β© 2020 Grazia Testa All rights reserved.
Pen name: Alyssa OβRowane
Commaful: @maddie_hatter
Wattpad: _MaddieHa...
Time is timeless. Let me know what you think in the comments!
daily prompt submission! don't ask who got me writing like that ~
"Do not mistake the fox for wise my dear, " The old man drawled to his granddaughters' honey'd ears
What is time? A conversation between a child and his dying grandfather.
I don't want to be the journey, I want to be the destination. I don't want to be a chapter, I want to be the whole story...
Personification of time. It may be that it slips by quickly, faster with each year I live. Yet as I get older I find I become more acquainted with the one we call time. Like old friends we grow tired ...
I saw an instagram reel that our moles and freckles are the places our past life's lover kissed us. This was an interesting perspective, so I started playing with this idea in my head and wrote this.
This is a poem I wrote in 2006/2007 that I lost. I've rewritten it from memory, and now I think is much better.
How the snow comes to encapsulate this once dreary town
It doesn't demand time or space
It comes without worry, without haste.
A collaboration of of fifty-nine on the cadence of broken hearts and hope! Enjoy!
Your Q&A questions for 100 followers answered!
Thank you infinitely for your support!
Β© 2020 Grazia Testa All rights reserved.
Pen name: Alyssa OβRowane
Commaful: @maddie_hatter
Wattpad: _MaddieHa...
Time is timeless. Let me know what you think in the comments!
daily prompt submission! don't ask who got me writing like that ~
"Do not mistake the fox for wise my dear, " The old man drawled to his granddaughters' honey'd ears
What is time? A conversation between a child and his dying grandfather.
I don't want to be the journey, I want to be the destination. I don't want to be a chapter, I want to be the whole story...
Personification of time. It may be that it slips by quickly, faster with each year I live. Yet as I get older I find I become more acquainted with the one we call time. Like old friends we grow tired ...
I saw an instagram reel that our moles and freckles are the places our past life's lover kissed us. This was an interesting perspective, so I started playing with this idea in my head and wrote this.
This is a poem I wrote in 2006/2007 that I lost. I've rewritten it from memory, and now I think is much better.
How the snow comes to encapsulate this once dreary town
It doesn't demand time or space
It comes without worry, without haste.