Regina K. Pride > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

Miscommunication The meals at my house never sing a tune of steamed asparagus over a brew of hot, hot vegetable juice filled with raw potato..

Detroit, 1969 Papa taught me if anything happened close my eyes count to ten say a little prayer but my knees lock and burn one. hallowe..

Dear Shelby, Remember me?Remember when you were two and I was three?Remember all the days spent in your family’s garage?Remember us playing..

One eye on the ball, he dribbles it to the west side of the court tries to pass it off to Malcolm but drops it, ball bounces to the fence, hits ..

Untitled 2 He wants to taste the river, wants to ride the storm and I tell him he won’t get anywhere thinking the way that he does.He&rsqu..

Woven from mother’s hands tucked beneath her breastsbreath of Aphrodite;soul of Athenastreaming through her lips. Mother sports a solid eye ..

"After she moves out, one tears up grass blades to watch which way the wind blows." -Dobby Gibson, The World as See..

The world is smaller from in here; the world is darker and cloudier whichever way I turn. I don’t fit and the air is running thin.The very s..

To give away a dog without a goodbye is to cry into your pillow all through the night and no one hears you.To know that she touched your soul is t..

Blue painted across the sky reflected through the skylines and shimmer of the underbellies of planes,we sit underneath it all. I mark a spot on t..