As you lay this body down, down on cold hard forest ground-- split it open and salt inside, cut out spots where demons hide. Grind the bones to make your bread and forget about your empty bed. A wolf circles-- your quiet crypt keeper to greet this new death like winter's Reaper. Falling leaves will … Continue reading April 2 : Winter
It's said that the circumstances of birth-- the day, the music, the time, even the particular position of the stars far above our heads, leave fingerprints on our newly blossomed souls. When we open our mouths to gulp that first taste of air-- so sterile and electric, Leto swaddles us in a blanket woven by … Continue reading April 1 : Welcome
Something is wrong with me-- something small and dark is lurking in a place I cannot find. Maybe it is sharp, and pricks the fingertips of men who dare to hold me close. Maybe it whispers in their ears as we lay asleep, a midsummer nightmare beat in racing pulse. They spit me out, perhaps … Continue reading atropa belladonna
Back to the nest she goes, bones tired and heavy. To chew on dead lips stretched in cold smiles. To chatter in deaf ears, the skulls starting to decay. She will writhe under the false light, the one meant to warm and comfort. She will clutch at the darkness, eyes wide to let in the … Continue reading Rat Tales
Death comes slowly crawling up from the floorboards. Through our soles sliding between the knots of our spines. It hooks onto our fingertips like freshly spun spiderwebs. We cannot shake it. --inspired by the episode "Faith" of Supernatural
Typewriter Moon 