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GangrenousThe bloated tongue full of heliumGangrenous by BloodshotInk
that escapes the ephemeral and lifts up, skyward –
is stuck in a congealed throat
draped with the closed curtains of bile and blood
souping a dam across her vocal chords. No more words.
The hair is brushed, later, out of its nooseloops
until it is straight and lies flush with the velvet,
in a box only just big enough to bury the dreams of a life
lived without pain
bubbling out of the now dead lips with each breath.
Skin soft turns hard – in the way that all girls do as they age
but she does not age.
She couples only with the wooden box, painted falsely white,
that covers her body and face.
It is the concealer, the mascara, the war paint never worn.
The chemicals of her unusually sewn-together body,
combine in a way geneticists cannot explain
to exude the only smell it can. Of her –
but it is not the familiar any longer. Not the smell of milk and dust.
Now, the acids boil together, to purge her of her pain.
The familiarity of her fades
You're Not Alone, Even in DeathI woke up to nothing at all. A literal black stained the landscape around me. Sure, there were mountains and trees and valleys, but there was nothing. No wind, no sound, no sun. Black was all I saw.You're Not Alone, Even in Death by 7Demented
I started up and started gasping for breath, feeling my neck for something that didn't exist anymore. My invisible heartbeat shot up as I realized what I had happened. Everything had finally come full circle. I looked down at my hands and saw only the outline of them in the sharp contrast of the light; the same applied to the rest of my body. I, too, was nothing at all.
"Why hello there," rasped a voice. The sound was that of a snake mixed with human speech and put me on alert. I swiveled my head to see a cloaked figure standing by what looked like a fire. It was also black and white yet somehow seemed brighter than everything else. "Please come closer," said the figure again, "I won't harm you."
Very afraid of this man- I could assume it was a man based on voice- I hesitated to draw near.
Lost and FoundHe has prayed as muchLost and Found by BathroomStallStories
as he said "I love you"
in both cases
they were inaudible
Occasionally you can hear him
when he traces the outline of you
similar to the way
a stroke induced December
remembers to speak spring
like he's seen you before in his dreams
You can hear him
when his eyes linger at your smile
as if he could find faith
from your light
trapped, imbedded in insecurity
his way is a broken record even the deaf could listen to
He will not say I love you
not because he doesn't
but because you can not hear a man
you have yet to meet
but when you do, oh god, you will be brutally aware
Because with love like his
you could drown twice
and not want to come up for air
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