Tag Archives: loneliness
Inevitable
Somewhere in me, a great ocean has iced over. The ice itself is brittle, and if pressed, a great tide of tears will rush forth. It threatens to drown all who are near. I will not cry, I promise them. … Continue reading
After I Drowned
When I came back up I was dead. I’m still dead. I’m not here. My eyes are water blue, and my lungs are full of salt. I want to burn something into my skin to prove I exist. I want … Continue reading
Someone Comes In
Someone comes in every day and walks into the empty, dark side of my office. They do this every morning, and they stand there, confused, turning in slow circles, on the other side of my desk. “Hello?” they call. It … Continue reading
Nothing But A Ghost
It was light out, when he put the last little one to bed. It was light out, but Lewis didn’t care; he needed a little time to himself. Sometimes he did that — put them to bed early, so they … Continue reading
The Way Things Were
Every day was the same, now. At first, she’d refused to move, to eat, to anything. She resented having to go to the bathroom. She would all but bare her teeth at anyone who got too close. As time went … Continue reading