sign up or log in for additional features. (It's free!)
maiden made me
smiling the attachment began
as she ordered another round
on my credit card
it takes a lot of nerve to take that much
she will never be the normal
enormity in her eyes
lost love in her heart
i her preist,
she my confessor
By Matt m. on 03.15.2018
Just drink the magic potion, dear and you will have it made. All golds and silvers of the world will at your feet be laid. You’ll wear a crown and have a throne – and a beautiful queen, too. Everyone will adore you, and they’ll always remain true. Just drink the magic potion, dear, and this dream will be yours. I swear it’s not a poison that will fill your blood with spores.
By Belinda Roddie URL on 03.15.2018
A made is a lady who helps with stuff. Or I made something
By nathaniel on 03.15.2018
My lips are shiny soda tops.
As they pop-pip-pop the gum.
Did you want to know what is made
Even when I question if it’s really love?
By 30 Notes URL on 03.15.2018
I made a triangle with my hands.
Placed them up towards the sun.
Onwards into dusk the promise of dawn.
Pressured footsteps: one by one by one.
By On Blue Mountain URL on 03.15.2018
I heard you were good a making things.
Maybe that was an exaggeration made.
Anyone can do it, right? That’s what they say.
Kiss-kiss, bang-bang: the street philosophy poets know that when it comes around —-
Each and everyone wants it: the promise of brighter, better days.
By Blind URL on 03.15.2018
She spat. Her stomach acid sprayed out, mangling the lining of her throat, and tears burned in her eyes as the insides of her began to melt bright bright red. She pushed him away from her with the red red palms of her hands.
By Riannon on 03.15.2018
I made chocolate pudding for dessert. The kids loved it. There asked for more helpings. I was thrilled. Memories of my grandmother making chocolate pudding during our summer vacation came back. I was in a jaunty mood all throughout the day with cheerful kids around and memories of my childhood at our grandparent’s place.
By Nandu on 03.15.2018
It has dawned on me only just now that the watch was a read as an hour behind, but now my time has been made up like a structure of making it tough but worry not it has already been made.
By Robert Kohlhammer on 03.16.2018
“What happened, do you think?” Jimmy asked, staring down at the burned body.
“I mean, what made him do this? He seemed sane enough, according to his girlfriend. He wasn’t someone who would just set himself on fire.”
“I don’t know.”
By Excruciata on 03.16.2018
Why is it that life made so much more since to me when I was a kid? I was so insightful and had a knack for understanding situations and how the world worked. It was almost as if I was sitting back and watching from the outside looking in. Today, things make much less sense. Now, it feels like I’m on the inside looking around, but my perspective is no longer clear. Perhaps, I am doing this wrong; it seems to be backwards.
By okayfine on 03.16.2018
“Who was the first that forged the deadly blade? Of rugged steel his savage soul was made.”
By Kristian Pierce on 03.16.2018
She pressed the clay between her hands and observed the lines from her skin imprinted in the surface.
By Bridget Grace on 03.16.2018
like I made a lego car.
By nathaniel on 03.16.2018
smile made from gravel
bootstop lips (damn near sinful) –
I’m conflicted over the concept
of ownership and love.
By Pandatry on 03.16.2018
When Pygmalion came rearing his porphyry head among the magazines, it was then that the mafiosos from my uncle’s side of the family talked about Canadian hockey until the sun sat underneath the garden where we put the last canary that told about our make.
By Case Wren on 03.16.2018
my husband and I are made for each other. i realise it now after 3 years of marriage. though we knew each other before but the kind of bonding I have with him now, it’s different. living with someone is different and a unique experience.
By A on 03.16.2018
I made breakfast this morning, it was delicious. I have been practicing my baking and cooking, and I really thing that I am getting really good at it.
By abbie on 03.16.2018
She made her way to the bathroom. Not on her feet but her hands and knees. It had been years since she found herself this sick. Though this was the first attempt at self-care with no one to help her. Thus the term self- care. How did it all come down to this? How had she found herself alone with out a person to call on to sit beside her as she was ill.
By Cris Nole on 03.16.2018
You made me who I am. You broke me, and remolded me into this bitter creature. It took years, heartbreak and sadness, but you have won. Your lies, Your cheating, Your selfishness…and you dare ask why I am the way I am. Remember years of empty love and promises, you have made me
By Cat on 03.16.2018
By too stable on 03.16.2018
is there an algorithm that made me
a series of 1s and 0s that comprise my being
or am i simply a combination
of millions of years of evolution
if that much thought was put into me
it doesn’t give me that much hope for the future
is this the best evolution’s got?
if so, it’s time for the robots to take over
By Matt m. on 03.16.2018
I had been made, I don’t know how – but I will have to go into hiding immediately and rethink my next steps. It is so hard to have to keep changing places, people, jobs and names – I am having trouble keeping up with it.
By Sam on 03.16.2018
Verb in the past simple and past partciple form, it’s base form is make. It is used when someone did something, like food or their homework for example.
By Guilherme Zorzetto URL on 03.16.2018
Sahare pushed the clay back into the shape of a heart, she hollowed out the inside and made a lid. She baked it for a few hours, and gave it a good paint.
By Thorn on 03.16.2018
She made me. Out of stone and dust and despair, she crafted my bones. Out of marble and water and joy, she fleshed out my muscles. She made my eyes from sapphires; she fashioned my tounge out of alabaster; and for my heart, she used sandstone. It was a lovely thing for her, sandstone.
By Olivia on 03.16.2018
Do not believe what you have done. Do not believe you were solely the one to craft my life. You may have made these hands, but they are still my hands. You may have made my eyes, but they are still mine to see with. You may have made my heart, but it does not pump your blood. This is my body. Not yours. And I can do whatever I want with it.
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.