NightmareHe noticed first the detailed embroidery on the seats of the chairs. Stitched into the silky red fabric were neat decorative flowers and tiny dancing animals; he fingered them with curious fascination before realizing the rest of the strange hall. The seated guests were old and silent. All dressed in faded black; they sat in rows and had no faces. Like pale, wrinkled paper bags stuffed into hats and scarves they looked to the front of the room. Running his nails along the polished mahogany wood, he noticed too, the bones jutting out of his hands as he reached out. Skin to skin, the makeup brushed off her sot cold cheek. She was grey.
Richard woke up sweating, anxious steam rising from his bare chest. Still trapped behind his eyelids, he threw panicked fists at the inner wall of his skull. He groped away from the images of burning funeral chairs as his mind opened, groaning, to the cold and comfort of his darkly lit room. The gods of metal snarled down from their plastic coated paper ho
MirrorHer eyes are wide when she sleeps
swimming in her irises, pictures are sweet.
but theyre bitter as coffee in the bottom of a cup
and she bawls.
Pretty faces in the mirrors of her skin
dig their nails into the meat of her shin
its warm like a fire reaching out to her toes
and she crawls.
The room is washing her in purples and blues
rosy colors dance a ballet so true
and the soft low moan of her lips when shes hungry
InsomniaI roll over and free myself from the warm and hugging covers, blinking against the light reflecting in my eyes. It would be nice to pretend that the light shining through the cracks in my blind is the soft glow of morning sunlight, but I know, without glancing at the clock, that no one would be waking up yet. I reach for the glass beside my bed and upon finding the last drops evaporated, throw my head back on my pillow in sleepy frustration. As my exhausted body tries to return to well-needed rest, I debate the idea of getting up for the glass of water that I am now craving. My anxious mind always seems to win over the sandman so I wrestle myself away from my sheets and somehow make it to the bathroom, barely managing to avoid running into the chair left inconveniently by someone in front of my bedroom door.
After satiating my thirst and emptying my bladder I ought to be able to sleep, but shes in my mind again. How couldnt she be? I remember when my thoughts of Anna were h
Two Crazy People and a BoxI see him coming up the stairs behind me, all at once heavy and light on his feet with a sort of bewildered, joyful gait. He is almost always out of breath. I think its because his heart beats seven times too fast.
Stairs like these always scare me the ones with the holes between each step. I cant help but feel Ill somehow slip, morph shape to fit through the gap, and plummet into what has magically transformed into a vast canyon of my stairwell doom. I get the same thing with rickety railings and it serves as a good reminder of my insanity.
Hes reflected in the glass of the window at the top of the stairs and hes gaining on me. Big black boots. Thump. Thump. Ka-Bunk. Clearly he doesnt share my paranoia. Reaching me, he exhales his lung into my ear.
Hi I mutter, suddenly aware of the length of my skirt. Hes lost a lot of hair since Wednesday, and I wonder what could have motivated him to change it. For some re
We are hereWe are here
Placed in existence. The reasons for which are numerous, whether you know it, assume it, or believe it
but the reason is unimportant.
We are here.
Ever so fragile. Ever so breakable.
Uniquely molded and painted glass figurines. Placed on a shelf to live out our lives, however long and eventful they may be, until inevitably and for unimportant reasons, we finally break.
Not one of us is living without a crack upon our glossy surface.
Perhaps it is this fragility that makes us so strong.
Or perhaps it just helps to put it into perspective.
Perhaps we dont have to try so hard, if we remember that were all simply thrown in here, bouncing and reflecting off one another.
Never untouched, never alone, and never lost.
We are beautiful creatures.
For all the cynicism, hatred, ignorance and greed that festers in us,
we never cease to attempt to better ourselves, and the world in which we have been placed.
What do we owe this world?