Short Stories

sound waves from something already said

what if I’m just stardust

Yeah, my mind is asphalt. Drive on me baby

A black mirror is salt, but it gets me through it

And when it kills me

And I’m the one killing me

It’s PBR and Malort

I watch it angrily

I am nothing but the hate you gave to me

If I’d never known it before

Would it feel like standing

Even more so when you cried

Your guilt will kill you

For that moment I was watching something magical, something like smoke dissipating into the air. I saw memories roll through them like waves on an ancient coast, saw bloodshed in the soft cant of their head.

That stranger was dreaming. Wishing on countless stars and remembering when they truly believed any of them would come true. It’s fire in the veins and raw meat in the gut.

I wanted so desperately for them to disappear, to accept the fate that only a star could grant.

But instead they looked down. Back to the subservient concrete, the disheveled city, the long walk home.

They passed me and I did not turn to watch them leave.

With those spider in the walls

The webs were built real sturdy

I’ll clean up the mess, I promise.

I’m sick of this

I’m sick of the sadness

I’m sick of the madness