We are moving on. We pack baggage in sturdy cartons and label each one. The heavy boxes are smaller because we distribute the load with intention these days. They are stackable and organized, and the text is bold but not too loud because we need to scan them easily. The rest of the world doesn't … Continue reading Unpack Me
Tag: love
When Death Comes for Me
Dearly Beloved, One day I will die. I won't be here to tell you what that means to me. So I write this in the shadow of Death, lurking over my shoulder as he pauses his busy, busy work long enough to say hello. He and I are friends, you know. When I die, you … Continue reading When Death Comes for Me
Starved.
Hunger is a passion. It sears and claws and begs… Feed me… touch me… consume me… Take this part of me that wants. It is dying to be free. Feel it, smooth and soft, and jagged. Breathe in the scent of discontent. Embrace the folds of tenderized skin. There is beauty somewhere here; it is dying to be seen. Stoke the flame, stroke the shame, bring me to my knees.
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Compress a life, zip it tight and send it to the cloud. Be wary of exporting it; it may be too much for you to handle. Save it, though. Save it so that you can unpack it when you have cleared up the space you need to view it properly.
A Painful Softening
My vulnerability is vicious. Covered in thorns, it whips around me like a crusted bandage stroking open wounds. Once, when I was someone else, it was buried deep where I could not go. It hid under cold black blood, waiting for me to remember. But memories are cheaply made, and mine always arrived broken. How … Continue reading A Painful Softening




