Parallel #5: [Dis]array / Onset

CW: Self harm Me, with fresh cuts all over both arms. Sitting calmly. Feel the pain. The connection. The flow. I didn’t understand the disease like he did. He’d lived with it far too long, knew the consequences and the natural conclusion. Put yourself out of your misery, his eyes begged. I can’t handle the… Continue reading Parallel #5: [Dis]array / Onset

Parallel #3: Subconscious Ordering

[Abandoned]Warehouses.Bins.Fears tied up with string. A song about the sea connects to my adolescence with all its sorrow and romance and shame. Connects me to pavements and ashtrays and discarded crisp packets blowing in the wind. Sand, too. Dirty sand. Bitterness abound. All the things they hide! Make me embarrassed for the things I don’t.… Continue reading Parallel #3: Subconscious Ordering

Interlude/Bear/Thaw

Serrated teeth in the brain. Tissue melting, oozing like wax, reforming into monstrous masses of indeterminate shape. Painful stalactites that join forces to torment me into complete and final submission. The wind growls as it rolls in through the fog. I flinch, though I can imagine no greater cross than I already bear. It’s the… Continue reading Interlude/Bear/Thaw

Journal Sequence #12: Poetic Animus [around here]

The poetic animus appears in a dream, just out of reach. Images of elevators flash into my mind. I project them like ghosts onto the big screen. If you tell someone you’re going to do something, while subconsciously projecting animus upon them, it will almost certainly happen. “I’d kill to relieve the burden.” Ah, the… Continue reading Journal Sequence #12: Poetic Animus [around here]

Journal Sequence #11: Remission [Appending]

Suddenly, through the cracks in the asphalt, paving and brickwork: water. It’s raining upwards; the city is crying. Drowning me and everyone like me in its tears. My hair, my clothes, my skin: soaked. My eyelashes beaded with droplets. You can only write when you allow the world outside to slow down, because as it… Continue reading Journal Sequence #11: Remission [Appending]

Flash Fiction: Metal Box

I’m in a metal box. It’s raining outside, maybe. No one is coming. Not ever. Sleep provides a refuge in which mind becomes one with its habitat. But I must emerge. The jewel is coming. I buzzed her in. Soon she’ll enter between the bars across my window. I selected her from thousands of possibilities.… Continue reading Flash Fiction: Metal Box

Micro Fiction: Cursed

And the world fades away, and I find myself curled up in a nest woven from straw that encloses me all the way around. There’s light coming from somewhere, because I can see. Outside? What’s outside? I’ve a feeling I have never known. A friendly echo, a hum. A message carried upon it that I… Continue reading Micro Fiction: Cursed

Journal Sequence #7: Liminal People

What happened to all the moments in between? Surely in their darkness they hold the key to all this. Or have I truly moved from one scene to the next as though through a portal? Where do we go when we’re inside a portal? Where are we when we’re in between? We are liminal people,… Continue reading Journal Sequence #7: Liminal People

Journal Sequence #6: Intended Viewer [Stink is Gone]

I found my soul today. [Back to Land by Wooden Shjips plays] Oh, when that fog clears. It’s just… The stink is gone. The stink is GONE. Long, sharp acrylic nails painted sapphire blue. Rings on fingers, bangles on wrists. Curling, twisting, dancing. Embodying the freedom. Forwards backwards outwards inwards. And I see the fire… Continue reading Journal Sequence #6: Intended Viewer [Stink is Gone]

Journal Sequence #4: Minor Fractal Loops [You Can’t Keep Doing This]

As I writhed in a pool of tears, and blood dripped from two fresh wounds in my arm, my best friend looked me in the eye and said: you can’t keep doing this. It was the end of our friendship in the sense that our symbiosis would never be the same, but it was those… Continue reading Journal Sequence #4: Minor Fractal Loops [You Can’t Keep Doing This]