Madness can grow from boredom. Shut tight, and that is when the wallpaper starts to move. Constrained in dresses and rhymes, and that is when the purple cat grins. Lock her in a house with no hallways, and that is when she takes an axe. Advertisements
Purple flowers come out of the green on either side of the dusty, narrow path. I stop, heaving a sigh, wiping sweat from my forehead, only to feel granules of dirt smear across my skin. They leave a stinging sensation—dirt, sweat, and a peeling sunburn. I close my eyes against the heat, and breathe in […]
Soaked petals blow in the fan; one petal moves, one petal falls, curved green leaves ache their spines. Glass shatters—streaks along the floor, I grind my knees in it, I stay quiet, I watch the feet. Tick tock, the heels stab the floor, bony fingers, black-haired knuckles grasp thighs, I am tickled with tulle and […]
Melodic wind sings to her from the edge of a pine soaked street of trees, but her dying glimmer is a ripple on the aching leaves, so they wait in cold contemplation bathing for hours in the milky liquid of the moon.
I make my way across the grass, and my golden coated dog wags her tail against my leg. I am barefoot, not going anywhere, and the light is just the perfect warmth. Purple flowers are scattered over the lawn like grape gumdrops. I lie in them and Sunflower joins me with a contented sigh. “Look!” […]