wow
~queenISH
MarissaNewest
Handsthere's a page in a library book that shows a man kissing a lady with her lipstick smeared over her teeth, her hair wrapped around his fingers, and he has no clothes on. the next page shows her face screaming, her neck twisting, he has his hands off page, cut off at the wrists.Hands
thats what scares her the most, his hands missing,
torn away, left out, deleted.
there's text too, in little print she squints at, the words are long and unfamiliar like in daddy's newspaper. he sighs and doesn't like it when he reads at breakfast, so this story must be a bad one too, but one you're
by ~queenISH
who is listeningwhat is said in the darknesswho is listening
what hand's motion flickers across candle flame
who is listening
her breasts pour from the front of her blouse, her torn jeans drag in the mud, loose strands of white-blonde hair tangled at the nape of her neck; her figure cuts a swath of darkness across the purple sky.
what is the meaning in the stone, in the dirt
in the blood
who is listening
a candle burns, a drop of molten wax spatters on the stone's surface, a soft sigh makes the silence echo. her hands, dark-bronze; small, tape
by ~queenISH
Random Favourites
Crystal Ballsby ~fd9z0r
umbrellasI.umbrellas
A boy putters in the hotel corridor, leashed by a single thread of duty-- it is wound twice around the doorknob, pulls taut at his wrist.
Recede through the keyhole, and his keepers are weary, sprawled like dead leaves on bedspreads, and fading into sleep.
II.
A small girl wails, maybe three, her teethy pitch escalating by years.
In the rented night, her last cry strangles, undone by hands on wrists.
III.
A forty-foot red curtain separates us from the amph
by ~Jellygraph
in celebration
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I just wanted to know, when will you be updating your story, "Threnody for an Ordinary world" on ff.net?
I love it, and I really ant to read more!
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Hell is not a place, it's a state of mind and body; Hell is an obsession with a name, a voice, a face...
~
RawEm0tion
Phantom of DA Opera
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They don't sleep anymore on the beach.
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speak the words i wanna hear, to make my demons run
i heart white noise!
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make money from home
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download mozart
You've got a wonderful gallery, I'm going to have to watch you.
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They don't sleep anymore on the beach.
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Ottawa Printing | Winnipeg Printing | Boston Printing Services
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They don't sleep anymore on the beach.
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