where the impossible seems three shorts steps to the left, and one giant leap into insanity…
“WHAT HAPPEN’S IF WE DON’T MAKE IT OUT?” “That’s not going to happen, not if we follow the plan.” “The plan is stupid! It’s got bigger holes in it than my underwear, and my nuts are hanging through them.” “The plan is perfect, in fact the plan is absolutely gorgeous.”
“What?” “Opioids.” He says again, and still she looks at him confused. “I smoke opioids, not weed,” he says, his arms animated with frustration. “Shouldn’t that mean the chances of you suffering from hallucinations is considerably higher?” He scoffs, “I’ve been taking the same cocktail for the last twelve years....”
“Are you going to try this again? You do remember what happened last time?” “Like you, I remember every day. Like you, I am cursed to never forget. So yes, I remember the last time we did this, but the thing about memories,” she says as she moves swiftly forward....
Calvert laughs again, “That’s the yesterday I’m talking about.” “It didn’t seem like it was the yesterday you were talking about a moment ago.” “I’m pretty sure I know what yesterday I’ve been talking about, you on the other hand, are on an entirely different cycle of yesterday’s than me.”
Masked with a mirror that resembles my eye, I see a sickness dying, the living, alive, my mind lost in sadness, my eyes closed too tight, for this tomorrow I now live in, was almost lost to the night, but we lived, we survived, we saw the end come and go, my today is your …
Their marshmallow feet can’t stop dancing, their soft gently steps can’t stop moving, they spin and they twirl, they leap and they hop, perfection of symbolic symbolism, a pathway, a dance almost done, colours like rainbows, gum nuts and jam, chocolates aplenty, they melt in my hand, happiness is a thought, life is the distraction, …
Fake freckles used to cover the scars of a forgotten, a whimsical wish, a playful smile flashed before the blast, forgiven, forgotten, a window of memories smashed by the hand of a future unforgiving, watch the time fall as the seas rise, the mirror made not of glass, but of time itself, can you see, …
Make me substitute the intent of your significance for the lies that are told, wet lips on a dry mouth, closed eyes in the darkness, poised to be the ending we desired, while lost in the story we did not write, intentions withered, a sacrifice of normality, a sacrifice to late begin, a sacrifice, a …
Continue reading "Surrounding Withered Corpses – Unhinged Poem"
We're all stuck on this ever shrinking rock, and it's not looking pretty. Once all this madness was in my head, and now it's out there. So, escape with a better kind of madness. Next time I'm gonna write about unicorns and marshmellows. Matt “You’ve finally taken it too far Howard! We are not meant …
“This is what you get for being a waste of space!” She hisses, grabbing him by the ears and delivering another mind-numbing head-butt that sends them both out of their bodies momentarily. “H-H-Had you just conformed, played the lover as requested, neither of us would be sitting here, like this!”
To live in pretend fame or die in fiery flame
K Is Silent k Is SiLeNt K iS siLENT kIsSiLeNt
If you like poetry, short stories, political rantings and/or articles then you have come to the right place.
Poems, Short stories, and more.
Write everyday for 365 days. Fact, fiction and everything in between.
Fan Fiction and Fan Art
so much to say and such little time
A domain for independent writing
Writing in the shadows
By Kel Dayheart
Words of a Wayward Clown
A place for storytelling, poetry, and other wordy things. Come have a read!
The world where the arcane pervades all but rules few
Read on, it's good for the brain.
the genre of true crime is asking for a reinvention. just look at how it's dressed.
Short Stories - Mostly dark ones!
Writing and Stuff by Chris Hall - Storyteller and Accidental Blogger
I'm Technically a Writer
beautiful thinking
Truths of mine, in which I hope you find yourselves
