She wasn’t quite sure how she got here or exactly what she was saying, but she was sure she was drunk. She heard the words, “stay, away, me, masturbate, you, me, right, wrong” and then she stopped listening to herself. Or maybe she had stopped talking. She felt something soft and rough, smooth and edged. She felt the graininess of pores. She felt like she was going to throw up. She felt the temperature change as she returned indoors from outside. The warm air, versus the cold.
F.O.C.U.S
Deanna Deals (kind off)
There once with a girl who lived in a shell of herself. Much like any holiday chocolate so you could find – say an Easter Bunny or Santa Claus – there was a hard shell around her and nothing on the inside. Only a large and vacant space occupied her insides. There were thoughts too, that swirled in the air of nothingness, but they weren’t substantial thoughts. They weren’t really anything. Those thoughts, and the vast void seem to be Deanna’s biggest problem.
She had the potential to change everything, the void, the nothingness, all of it. But for her potential to change it all, she lacked the motivation. Deanna lacked the sheer will or want to do anything. While this qualified as a problem for some, it was just everyday life to Deanna. Some days she did more than others. Some days she genuinely tried. Most days she faked it. This was one of those days.
Headache Day Three
Will this pain in the back of my skull ever go away? Of course it will, it cannot stay forever Will the sound of chiseling of ice stop piercing through my window? Of course it will, Winter is only a season, spring and summer will cease the noise that won’t let you slumber Will I…
Simple to Me
My words scream my concerns, my schedule echoes them, all while my voice expresses the betrayal. Still you respond with “cool,” “nice,” and “just do it.” As if any of this is that simple to me.
A Dark Itch
It begins as a dark itch It writhes and ticks within the skin Pulling up its sense of dread Never to be happy, ever again In it shallow, murky water lie Waiting to swallow all things whole Chewed up and taken, fingers and toes No pieces shall remain to come back, nothing shall ever really…
Sheda (Amiella’s Sister)
Sheda looked around the airport, trying to remember exactly how she got here. How they had gotten here. Hours ago she was looking at Tony, standing in front of their ocean-view window. They were getting ready to go out to dinner. The hotel phone had rung. The front desk said she had a call from her mother. Instantly Sheda thought of her younger sister, Amiella. Her mother’s voice sounded different, strained and far off. She could barely make out the words she was saying except for, “I’m sorry.” Her mother’s voice was replaced by a man’s – a deep voice, void of emotion. Something about Amiella and her baby. They needed to come home as soon as possible. Tony was at her side when she hung up the phone. Sheda remembered telling him that he needed to book a flight back. Immediately. “I think there is something wrong with our baby,” she had told him. “Amiella’s dead.”
Love Waited
“And it’s disgusting how little that you try, the existential equivalent of pink eye,” Alex slammed his phone down on the table. It was one thing to be a bitch, it was another to be a pretentious artsy type of bitch. That was exactly what Melanie was… a faker, a fraud, a wannabe poet and full time bitch. It wasn’t that Alex didn’t try, it was that anything less than over romanticized, under developed, imaginary prince in disguise wasn’t good enough for her. Or any of her band of bimbos and brainiacs alike. Like everything else she did. Melanie didn’t judge her friends by their intentions, intelligence, or interests, only by their perceived personalities. Their power, pull, or persuasion. Basically half of her friends were illiterate sluts while the other half were intellectual experimenters, all of them striving to fit into a golden mold with a golden boy.
Selling Humanity
He had crazy eyes and horned hair. It wasn’t really horned hair, but it was hair that separated, parted, and seemingly gelled down into a strange combination of a face frame that tried to do a swoosh. The look in his eyes was that feeling of constant fear of needing to pee and not knowing where the restrooms were or anyone to ask. He was off putting to say the least. His business partner looked more like his adult supervisor – an older, fuddy-duddy man playing dress up in a suit and tie in a strange attempt to exceed professionalism against the horn-haired child in dark jeans and a dark blue, plaid button up shirt.
Sleep, Elusive
Sleep would elude her once again. She felt it maneuvering away from her grasp. She would do almost anything for a sound night’s sleep. With every step sleep took further away from her, fear took one move closer.