Creative Writing
-
We don’t speak. Either one of us could be dead for all the other knew. Memories dim with each and every passing year, and as I’m writing my tired heart into submission, I feel like I’m losing the better part of me. It feels that with every sentence, I’m trying to get back to… Read more
-
Excavate the ruins of her jaw. A muted dialogue of sores as she once sang so beautifully. Bring me fingernails. Bring me illusion. Bring me a plague to give to my lover. They won’t be missed. No, they’ll never be missed. A concave oral, from the mouth of her preacher man. They said I… Read more
-
Muscles widened. Penetration. A baby falls from a balcony on the fifteenth floor. Sky-rise. Cauterize. Suckling the milky mother on the outer reaches of the Milky Way. Snowflakes adore her battered thighs. Knife in. Knife out. Act one, verse four. Father cries, and mother collapses with shortened breath. Phantom rage behind my ribcage. Entrails tied… Read more
-
Mating rituals on concrete. Certain people facing certain means of extinction. Snap their necks, and cut off their hair. Rip off their balls, and stamp on them until they bleed and bleed. Then, take their women, and show them what it means to be a man. Open up your skin by pushing in those fingers,… Read more
-
Photographs of demons, or just a girl growing into a woman. Stood outside the local supermarket as Peter Pan swoops down to take me away, my hands grow tight and throat even tighter. The traffic crashes, and my tongue swells to the size of greedy snake. Bay of Pigs. Breasts as oracles as symptoms of… Read more
-
What the soul can take, and what it can’t. What the mind can withstand, and what ultimately makes it cave in. All the oceans of pain and suffering that have pumped through my veins, and still I can’t rid myself of her eyes. The days of crushing routine, of suffocating in my self-made vacuum,… Read more
-
No force can stop destiny, no man to keep the tigers at bay. Set yourself on fire, and breathe in the icy waters of your mother’s womb. Black-eyed angel beneath bedsheets so warm against the horrors of the outside world. Her fingers dripping with blood, her wounds speak of the exotic. Cervix canals spreading… Read more
-
Three angels covered with soil. Three rivers that flow from tired wombs to the room that now slowly fills with water. The bodies are housed in glass despair, their cries always falling on the thin ice of life. The signs of self-abuse, there to see in the cracks of her skin. Fingernails scraping on… Read more
-
Loneliness gives birth to strength. Away from others, I’m able to focus on what I need in order to become something above and beyond. It’s not that I don’t care, or that my heart’s without love, it’s just how things must be. There’s a story that needs telling, and It’s been neglected for so long.… Read more
-
Every tear that you ever shed, another reminder of what’s invisibly changing you. Every drunken kiss, a reason to not wake up the morning after. Those connections we share despite our situation. The devil in you, and the angel in me. Sometimes reversed, sometimes the same. Handfuls of your hair, and then the next minute… Read more
