I second this addiction. I feel lost and unfocused if I do not write.

I third this addiction.

I love the written word..mine and others.

Great write,right,rite,wright….lol

Very relatable Willow. Thank you for sharing 💕

Brilliantly penned, Willow. Into the book it belongs! Infectious vibe your words and the musical arrangement my friend. It’s the one addiction that I feed and I refuse to kick. You summed it up well as you always do. Loved this one Willow. Excellent work. Appreciate you.

Damian

You express perfectly what most of us here feel, dear Willow! It’s the same with me – I scream, weep, bleed and laugh my soul onto the paper.

It’s horrific, that ‘silent scream’, the self-reflection not seen in the mirror, the expression held inside. I hear your pen, Willow. It’s LOUD!!! But I welcome it. Let the ink flow, make Rorschach’s of rage across the page. Just know, you are seen!

Curt

Brilliant work.

I don’t run the pen. It runs me, girl. As Shrek said…Better out than in. Excise the wounds so they can heal clean. Thank you, girl. You wield a mighty pen yourself

Thank you, Thomas

This hurts. a lot of deep meaning behind this.

Powerfully penned, Neville. Wow the pain and hurt in your words cut deep my friend. Excellent write. Appreciate you.

Damian

Too many ghosts, too many horrors in that field, Neville. I can imagine if you look close enough, you can see blood mingling with the grass, feel the stabs and thrusts, hear the screams. A place where even a blue sky, soaring hawks, and warm sun, cannot make this place feel safe, welcoming.

Beautifully written Neville.

Curt

Although seemingly it was just a field, it was also one of those rather special places I happened to stumble upon that had its own very strong atmosphere .. a bit like Lourdes, or Deeley Plaza (for me anyway) .. and it was only afterwards when I did a spot of research that I found out about the history .. I can still feel it now as I type this thank you .. Thanks a million Curt .. Neville 😎👍

Powerfully penned, Fia. Excellent storytelling as always my friend. The final battle was intense. Seems like a bittersweet ending to me. Even in death the mother left a mark. Appreciate you, cuz.

Damian

Ouch’ that’s taking mother love a tad too far methinks .. Just who’s side are you on he asked? Matricide, she replied .. Just ripe for Halloween my queen🩸🖤🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🦇🦇😎👍

A very engaging story.
Troubling and sinister.
Regards James

Happy Halloween, this is so good. I like how you were telling us now to whisper to demon kind because it is obscene.

Hauntingly penned, Brenda. That’s a Halloween story my friend. Appreciate you.

Damian

Chère C.,
A friend of mine wished me a blessed Friday.
I’ve come to absorb your words, art work and waive half of her well wishes to you…

Kind regards, Gus

On second thoughts:

The compass points North.
We call that orientation, but the orient is in the east.
If I look west, there’s the North Sea
So it’s only natural for me to look south, now and again. And again.

I Love this…
Your poem makes me wonder…
Kind regards, Gus

Classy and scary. Such great craft from you. 🙂

Powerfully penned, Brenda. Excellent dark write my friend. Appreciate you.

Damian