FLYING
My hands fell softly on the white and black keys— Gliding across them as the piano sang the tune of ...
You can come and go whenever you please. Don’t worry about me. One foot here, one out the door. Of ...
He rolled up his sleeves and sighed before dusting off his old machine. The worn chair he sat on was ...
Sometimes words are broken shards Of a mirror they want you to see. Of a person they want you to ...
It stole my breath as I took in the world around me. The night was a black deep, swallowing me ...
When I looked out upon the grey horizon littered with hues of pink and orange, a fire lit inside me— ...
The words, they’re there. They’re there before I even begin to think them— before my pen hits the page, scribbling ...
Hey! Are you enjoying NYCTastemakers? Make sure to join our mailing list for NYCTM and never miss the chance to read all of our articles!