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
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
The obvious-- Gray dust, the narrow escape of an electric death and the heavy balm of summer nights. The hidden-- Yellowed picture in Grandfather's coat, a first kiss under Midwestern porch light, and the whispers of children.
You sit in sweltering Georgia heat, mosquitos drinking from salted skin. Another glass of sweet iced tea, fingered with Jack Daniel’s sour mash whiskey, sweats in your hand. The moon dips below the lip of your rented wrap-around porch and throws pale light on your rocking chair. Soon, when the warm liquor has curled in … Continue reading To Savannah, With Love
Typewriter Moon 