#vss365

you share a kind word you never know who skipped lunch but you feed their heart

you laugh, make space wide you let every body shine no one hides from you

you listen, not judge your small warmth stays in their mind like sun after rain

“You don’t need to feel so guilty,” Dr. Silva said, cleaning her glasses. “Your mother abandoned you. Of course you’re going to develop trust issues. You can't control that, no matter what Rachel said."

Gary’s mouth dropped open. “So you're saying I'm this way because of my awful parents? And my evil boss? And, y'know..." He gestured vaguely at everything. "...society? Nothing is my fault at all? My god... I can do whatever I want! This is amazing!” He threw back his head and cackled madly.

I had a knack for

cherry picking madness

always riding the wave

of an idiot crush

& you, showing up at my door

wondering if my mind was still in the gutter

& if an old scab needed picking at

We spent the evening filling our noses with crushed-up candy hearts

& biting the heads off of angels

while the silence just kept growing in volume

& moving faster

We speak in the tongues of narcotized robots

around the world...around the world...around the world...around the world...

Has anyone ever told you, you're pretty daft for an intellect

punk?

*

The way he touched me became my religion

my flesh folded into devotion

like bloody knees collapsing upon the altar of sin

like a softly spoken prayer before a firing squad

Later, I will say I was just in love with his Judas penis

& I was tricked into believing it was something more

These Revelations feel like doom poetry

& I let the pages melt into my tongue like LSD

My delusions are a hell of a drug

Coming down is a motherfucker

*

In Saint Petersburg, where I died

I painted patterns of daisy-chain suicides

circling around my wrists

My melancholy had a way of munching on time

swallowing pieces of my mind

Did you know the hands of a clock are capable of murder?

Just. Wait. Your. Turn.

BUT YOU CAN'T FUCK AWAY THIS PAIN

let's try anyway

& you turn to me with your poppy-milk mustache

& say, "Did you notice

how the bartender looks like Jesus

& the man at the jukebox looks like the devil?"

*

And the devil has golden curls

& eyes that glint like emeralds

He smiles with the charm & dimples of Peter Pan

& puts a dime in the jukebox, baby

for Joan Jet

Full poem in link below!!!

Prose inspired by reel which was created by @pedrosgermangirlbackup @pedrosgermangirl

Once in the tall grass

he wove her a ring of wild clover.

“See?” he laughed. “Even the field wants you.”

Years later she still wears jewelry from him—

not clover now, but the pale line of a scar

her fingers circle each night like a wedding band.

As if he knew, long before the knife,

I do now. He's not moving.

Thanks to @thegreatobsesso for the tag!

📝 Share the last line you added to a WIP (or a last chapter line, or the last line you edited, or the last whatever works for you)

I haven't written or edited anything since the last time I did one of these, so here's today's Bluesky microfiction (the tag is #vss365 and the prompt is life)...

There's a quote from a film, something about how #life finds a way. And I want to believe it. I really do. But it's been eighteen weeks and more empty roads than I can count. I woke from a coma to silence like a fucking Hollywood cliché and if this is the apocalypse, I am not impressed.

Tagging @cheerfulmelancholies, @cowboybrunch, @cc-writes-stuff and @diphthongsfordays if you'd like to do it, with an open tag for anyone else who wants to join in 💜