The Writers' Block Digital Journal Publication

By Alex Fosnaugh The first time I saw you,  I felt a gentle tug.  There was a string Pulling me closer.  Inviting me in Wanting me to know you.  The second time I met you, I felt a calm familiarity.  That tug became dragging,  The gentle pulling became a lasso.  The string began to loop around us.  The third time I met you,  I was expecting it.  Because by that point  You were mine.  The string had tied a knot,  All we needed to do was reach out And interlock our hands.

Creative Writing Piece by Anonymous Class starts tomorrow, and I’m a bit nervous. There are quite a few things I have yet to wrap up,...