“But what if I want to pull my knife out?” Jenna asks, looking upwards into her father’s eyes. Joey bends down on one knee, laying Carmac, the huge serrated knife he always carries with him, down on the floor to his right, grabbing his daughter’s left shoulder, “The urge is always there, sure, … Continue reading Lucky Number 7
Cotton balls pulled across the empty blackness, allowing the briefest rays of moonlight past the empty spots. The blanket pulled oh so tightly as the night tucks Seattleites in to their sleep. Smoke empties out from me, my exhale just another symptom. I want to go back inside, you see. Sit on the armchair … Continue reading I Guess This Is Growing Up.
No parents removed their young children. No parents shielded their eyes with their hands. Oh but tits aren't okay? Seriously?
The knife lays at the floor by her feet. She picks it up and turns it around so it points downwards.
I'm listening to Lamb of God right now so if this comes out reading angry, my bad. Omerta. Wow! One year...well, kinda. There was a few months there where I didn't write much of anything, maybe once or twice. Depression is very real and debilitating, in case you haven't noticed. I want … Continue reading State of the Boat. #12 – My (One Year) Anniversary
She threw her arms up, trying to break free as she stood up. Red eyes brimming over with tears, hair in pigtail braids, flailing her arms wildly in her yellow raincoat, she stomped her foot in her little ducky galoshes, “I won’t leave her daddy! I won’t I won’t I won’t-“
Your reflection briefly passes on the blank television screen. The lights are off, which makes it that much more eerie. "Carol?" I call towards the doorway from my bathroom. Wet and cold, dripping with water fresh from the shower; I feel so vulnerable. The reflection shows again, walking past the lighted doorway mirroring me. A … Continue reading Your Face Is Momentary.