Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • We played that glass bead game didn’t we?
    Carelessly throwing turtle shells into bonfires .
    Traveling roads that were cracked and dangerous.

    I never in a million years thought it would come to this, where I prayed to the flurries crushed diamonds with my bare hands burned an effigy of moss and petulance.

    We once believed love was silver and ancient as a Hopi burial ground we once made love under a blanket of crushed rose petals we once saw music in stars and vapor.

    To grow up this year was hard. My skin is no longer soft. Do you remember how the high desert looks in summer where the earth is cracked as a map of the rivers of the world might look? The confluence of tributary the complexity of tides and currents?
    Everything has changed and nothing will ever be the same to you as i offered you the coral from my heart. You will never remember that I smell like vanilla and roses you will never remember how I softened your night terrors and lit your darkness as if I were a bolt of lightening or the fire's first spark.
  • Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.