Challenge
Pick your favorite line from a song or work of fiction. Use that as the title for an original piece of poetry or prose. tag me!
94 reads
Mr. Brightside.
It was the kiss.
Or maybe it was the feather-light touch before.
Whatever it was, it got her out of her dress.
His shirt toppled to the ground.
And you sat there watching,
accidentally,
wrong place, wrong time
wondering why life had to play its cards so fucked up.
©SelfTitled, 2017