48,736 votes and 298 comments so far on Reddit
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

if i look back, i am lost
art blog(derogatory)
Misplaced Lens Cap

Origami Around

JBB: An Artblog!

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Xuebing Du
Sade Olutola
Peter Solarz

tannertan36
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TVSTRANGERTHINGS
todays bird
taylor price
trying on a metaphor
YOU ARE THE REASON

@theartofmadeline

Love Begins

Andulka
seen from T1

seen from Chile

seen from Germany
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seen from India
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seen from United States
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seen from Algeria
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seen from United States

seen from United States
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@kaylainkentucky
48,736 votes and 298 comments so far on Reddit
Abigail Payne moves from Bucklick, Kentucky to her mother's property after her disappearance but something is very wrong. As Abigail discovers the dark history of the manor and property, she exper...
I posted to Inkitt
Sobic headbanging!
Bath time!
Pinebrook: A Dark and Bloody Ground (on Wattpad) https://my.w.tt/zKituxb3c4 Abigail Payne moves from Bucklick, Kentucky to her mother's property after her disappearance but something is very wrong. As Abigail discovers the dark history of the manor and property, she experiences unusual activity. Left to fight her budding mental illness and things that go bump in the night. Will Abigail survive the property's demons and her own? Take a visit to a dark and bloody ground with Abigail to find out.
The Ghost the Edge of My Bed (Sleep Paralysis)
I see her huddled at the foot of my bed
Long black hair covers her face, arms stretched towards my feet
Skin splotched gray and green as the dead
She reaches and tugs at my sheets
My heart aches and fills with dread
I cannot move, I cannot breathe
The ghost at the edge of my bed
I feel fear and defeat
I must reach the light
She has come to kill me
This feels like the last of my nights
She starts to climb towards me
She moves closer
I struggle to reach the lamp
I cannot move
My skin hot and damp
I cannot look away
Her white dress spattered with decay
My arms find their strength
I reach the lamp and live another day
The Mourning Dove - A Poem
In the morning, I hear his lonely coo
Reaching far from the trees
His lament echoes in the breeze
His impeccable wings drip with morning dew
His music reaches none of his own
Singing ‘till the end, all alone
His soft brown feathers rolling off the rain
Singing for nothing to gain
His lonely heart ringing in song
A life alone is long
He sings through the sorrow
From the morning until tomorrow
I hear him throughout the sun and ice
He sings once then twice
He sang all throughout the Fall
No answer to his call
Winter draws near
And the frost is what he’ll fear
For he will be singing in the cold
None there to huddle or hold
His song is a glory to behold
It becomes lost to silence
Never to be told
Sleepy Sobic.
Arm warmers.
Crochet
Anglin Falls, Kentucky
The Moon and the Pine Trees
I watch them sway; the beautiful pine
And see her shining from behind
I smell their aroma in the night air
There is no other place I’d rather be than there
I float above my mind
The music flows as I lose all time
The wind blows and the needles begin to scatter and shake
The pine; they bend and do not break
The moon; she shimmers so bright
I can feel her in the coolness of the night
I drown in her silver beams
She lulls me into waking dreams