Uncategorized
-
Originally posted on jimmi campkin: She has a voice that shatters memory. Every time I hear it, I forget another birthday. Another past crush dies. Relatives cease to be names or faces. I cannot bring them back. I can only focus on hips, knees and shoulders. A tuft of hair above The Zone that I… Read more
-
Originally posted on SPO_OKY: Once upon a time I worked in a job that paid peanuts but was the best fucking job ever. I left home a few days before my 18th Birthday and went to live in a bedsit in Aberdeen. My Mum had told me that I shouldn’t leave home, just to get… Read more
-
Originally posted on jimmi campkin: She hides one eye behind a torrent of thick, globulous, dyed hair. Teeth like an antique piano, I fantasise about their tune. Lame, I know. But then, I’m the guy who hovers around the beans, the peas and the tinned fish; with my squeaky trainers and leather trenchcoat; too big… Read more
-
Originally posted on Chimera: I look around my house and people around me. All of them pretend to be educated, to be these modern thinkers who are literate and have this huge, fancy degrees. But what is the use of all of these fancy degrees when at the end of the day, their mind is… Read more
-
Originally posted on Sudden Denouement Collective: I remember the day I closed my eyes and there he was, coaxing me out of my shell. He had already created a place for me. I guess it all could’ve been a trap but either way it pulled me in in a way I would be set free from… Read more
-
Originally posted on Sudden Denouement Collective: We had you pushed into the furnace; spoiling organs and leaking skin were burned away. Your pulverized bones resemble beach sand in Tawas, fittingly. ? Abandoned the wagon again, Cos I’m a goddamned tyrant, missing you, Mother— been consuming for two twelve hours, and I will continue to imbibe… Read more
-
Originally posted on Daffniblog: To live a life of no meaning would destroy me. To work a job that baited me with hope would send me into a catatonic state, I’m sure, from fear of being stuck in a place that tortured me every live-long-day. Oh, the hope I’d inhale and vomit up on my… Read more
-
Originally posted on samantha lucero: my scent, not his scent, but by some changeling blood could spread the same smile on halloween. on christmas waking up in blankets it didn’t fall asleep in. there’s bricks that hold down a red bottlebrush flower from 1994. remember, she called you honeysuckle, and thought rats had no bones.… Read more
Author S. K. Nicholas 