“He was concerned about how it’d all end. He wants to remain true to you,” she poked at the holes in the table on her back porch, referring to our selected screenplay writer who’d be responsible for somehow magically unraveling a mind and story so fucking complex, not one soul, nor even herself, knew. “End? […]Read More Ellipse …
We smoked them ’til their blood ran warm as the honey calmly sedated our nerves like oozing caramel melting on simmering tongues that spoke only of melodious things as it slithered down throbbing throats meant to turn and close like switch blades on lies, only to open harmoniously within the cadence of wings beating to […]Read More Pressure.
“No, I don’t know you at all. It’s true.” “Then why do you turn away? Why don’t you try?” “I did. I fed you parts of me no one has seen and I expect the same in return.” “There’s no harm in digging, Liz.” “Yes. There is.” “How?” “Because. All I’ve ever known was digging […]Read More Mirroring.
“It’s easier to clean house this time around, ya know.” “Totally.” “It’s like these pieces I’m selling and giving away have spirits that are attached to them that have run their course in my life. I don’t know why I hung on so long.” “Letting go isn’t easy. And hope is even harder to let […]Read More Lock & Key.
“I can’t just sit around and play anymore. I can’t dilly-dally. I don’t even have much time to write in the coming month. I’d be able to fit it all in if I were as manic I was a month ago where 2 hours of sleep was all I needed, but now everything is slowing […]Read More Cue the 8-Ball.
“Repitition. They won’t let me heal, ya know.” “How so?” “They make me repeat the same stories over and over again, man. Like, I’m going on a decade now of this. They even ask me if I have flashbacks.” “Do you?” “Kinda hard not to when you have to replay the scenes all over again […]Read More Remember.