This is semi-inspired by (500) days of summer where he draws the skyline on her arm, but really it's just about that feeling you get when you're bored in a classroom where you just wish someone would...across his virgin skin. How magical, unreal the process seemed. As though he had never seen a pen write before. She finishes, clicks the lid back on the pen, stares out the window. This is mine. ♥

Personal challenge for BF January: write in or prominently include second person narration for all main contest prompt responses. So far: 2.5/6. The return of A&B! Don't we just love these two? Wordcount...television' smile. Only the delirious love accorded by our audie --[ notices A staring ]--Sorry, were you saying something before? A : [ confused ] I said I think we might need a new fridge

I kinda gave up on the ending of this. I'm tired. I think my feet have forgotten how to walk. I blame her. She walks light over rocks and boulders, as if it were just the playground; comfortable like...every occasion. Not every thought has been said before. Maybe I understood something unspoken, or maybe words made me brave. I took the book from her hands. There were tears in her eyes. I kissed her.

on life II I shall no longer read life as a book, bound carefully with old glue, and dust, scrawled with the juvenalia of lunatics: we can't flip for spoilers.

Hey look, it's omniscient third person! Wordcount: 549. DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Spanish Inquisition (bet you weren't expecting that , eh?). Untitled Prologue (working title, evidently) There...models of philosophical governments presented by people they have never heard of, terrorising the masses, arguing about the meaning of life, and stopping to eat a few odd brains. Shall we begin

Introduction Writing in the first person sometimes raises questions of narrative ownership. Sometimes the narrator is also the author, especially in autobiographical or semi-autobiographical works...article might help! :D This article was brought to you, ink-stained and still damp, from the pen of ecrivaillonne . …or was it? ;) (Cross-posted to mercredigirl .

Introduction Writing in the first person sometimes raises questions of narrative ownership. Sometimes the narrator is also the author, especially in autobiographical or semi-autobiographical works...azuire’s article might help! :D This article was brought to you, ink-stained and still damp, from the pen of ecrivaillonne . …or was it? ;) (Cross-posted to sushiandchai .

Pixie Pt II I smell smoke as I mount the stage, these steps are higher than they look, the crowd is full of faces and you are just another face; no red lipstick, pink hairdye, fur coat will change...big enough for my shoes. My baby sister is two heads taller than me, makes money hand over my fist clenched round a memory of what we once were. sparks fall. the smoke I smell is your image, burning.

driving in my newly purchased vehicle somewhere in Pennsylvania there's a semitruck ahead of me trying to make it up the hill he has to downshift and the power is sent to the wheels I notice the exhaust...said be 'heard' in a sense, acknowledged, and the empty or blank space is felt and understood to contain heavier words than what are on the page, something silence in conversation could never do.

This week's theme is: Writing . Enjoy! Spell If, at your desk, you push aside your work, take down a book, turn to this verse and read that I kneel there, pressing my ear where on your chest... please comment on that post. Next week's theme is: Woman . Whether you want to submit a poem by a woman or about a woman/women is up to you (as always, creative interpretation is welcome)