» User
One Word Writing Prompts | Get Inspired to Write | Creative Writing Prompts | Writing Inspiration | Journal Prompts | Writing Exercises | Writing Ideas | Writing Challenges | Writing Motivation | Writing Prompts for Adults | Writing Prompts for Kids | Writing Prompts for Teens | Writing Prompts for Beginners | Writing Prompts for Fiction | Writing Prompts for Nonfiction | Writing Prompts for Poetry | Writing Prompts for Screenplays | Writing Prompts for Short Stories | Writing Prompts for Novels | Writing Prompts for Memoirs
read
write
sign in/up
carolinescott
Change your cover photo
Upload
Change your cover photo
Upload
Change your cover photo
carolinescott
This user account status is Approved
statement
What makes a statement a statement? Is it the way it's said? or is it the way it's stated? it is something as simple as punctuation that makes a statement so un-responsible? Is it that it ends with a period or an exclamation mark instead of a question mark?
holder
I am the holder of his hand I hold his hand because no one else would it gets sweaty when he's nervous but its the only hand that would hold mine too we are two freaks holding hands I am the holder of his hand and he is the holder of mine.
temple
My sister got accepted into Temple University It's weird watching the world change around you not realizing you're changing along with it Who's going to drive me places now? Good Luck, sis.
gown
I am wearing a gown for the first time I don't like them all too much Plus this clashes with my shoes I don't know why I shaved my legs for this gown I just want to get out of my drag and smoke a cigar. I much prefer my slutty dresses.
tires
My room is freezing, I never wanted her to walk foot into my room. I want to just steal a car and just drive away making tire marks on the street and smell the sweet smell of burnt rubber as I drive far away from home.
still
I fall stiff as a board on the satin liner. the lid closes on me and the sun will never touch me again. the dirt falls on my coffin like rain and I will be forgotten and still.
artistry
thereisanantscurryingacrossmycomputerscreenandIhavenospacesinmywordsIsthisartistryyesbecauseeverythingIseeandeverythingIdoisartistryandsoit'sthesamewitheveryoneelse
crouch
I crouch in the corner weeping and shaking no one sees me sob all they see is crowds and not people when will they see me crouching?
trade
The men walk down the dock with their huge bulky boots clunking over my head I hide beneath it as they laugh with foreigners and chew tobacco they trade fur for salt and seeds for fabric and laughs for smacks on the backs I watch and observe from below this clammy dock observing.