Tag: anxiety

She Bled Red Wine

July 7, 2016

I wrapped her, in red ribbon. I breathed against her skin, and heard her thoughts crashing against the inside of my skull, like bones clicking when stretched too far. She ached. Though I didn’t know why. Nor could I ask. Not yet. Her eyes changed colour with each mechanical snap of the lens. A flash … More She Bled Red Wine

Boxes Undone

June 30, 2016

In the aftermath of the tippled boxes come undone; ribbons untied, and words scraped from corners of a pale skinned mind, unrefined; do I say I am sorry? When I was just a girl, in dresses printed in sunshine and sewn together with trust, I learned that words mean very little. Unless, they cause an … More Boxes Undone

Rejection

January 27, 2016

Humidity clung to her skin, warm and sticky. Her clammy hands in her lap, knotted with anxiety. Thin strands of hair stuck to her brow. Like cracks in her face. Fine wounds in an otherwise perfect porcelain complexion. Why are you so afraid? She mouthed quietly to herself, wiping the sweat from her forehead with … More Rejection

Gone.

October 10, 2015

… after she died I breathed in the sorrow of everyone else. It was so thick and so heavy. I didn’t bend. I didn’t lean. Or need from anyone. I let it all unfold, and I let them all grieve in the way they they needed to. Then, someone showed me the video of her … More Gone.

You Left Me Here.

September 26, 2015

When the sound of sirens become as real as the yellowing bruises that stained your skin like cigarettes. When I begged you to stay; Please don’t go. But you left yesterday. And again today. Your time here is as unpredictable as the discolouration on the face of a battered woman. I missed you before, then. … More You Left Me Here.

For Shaida

September 9, 2015

If I could pull the night stars down, like wallpaper. Peel it off in strips and roll it up like gift wrap, I would, and I would store it in a drawer. Tuck it away, and hold on to all those stars. Keep them. Save them. For a day like this. For a day like … More For Shaida

Words Sewn Together

August 25, 2015

I ache, from carrying the burden of your collected pain. Pain that you gather as you fall down in the door ways of home after home. I could decorate willow trees, with trinkets of sorrow, all yours, for miles. Sadness in every colour. But I sew it all together, instead, and remind you of the … More Words Sewn Together

Dead Meat

July 26, 2015

In rage, I imagine the suffocation of a bull, in clear plastic. Layers, and layers of clear plastic. It can fight. It can call. But it’s strength will be it’s death. It will die. It’s how I feel, and the image I rewind and pause like an old movie, when I feel this way. Pounding … More Dead Meat