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E A M Harris posted an update 1 week, 4 days ago
@skeletonhearts Thank you for following my posts. I hope you enjoy them.
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E A M Harris commented on the post, loom 1 week, 4 days ago
The loom clacked in the background. It seemed to her that it had always done so – all her life. As if it wove her life. The pattern of cloth that grew lacked variety or beauty; she hated it.
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E A M Harris commented on the post, ensue 2 weeks, 6 days ago
Ensue is not a word I’ve ever used. I prefer follow, or result. Yeah! Result is good, definite, strong. Ensue is sort of hesitant.
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tiffanylu posted an update 1 month, 3 weeks ago
cities, pt. 2
the city breathes smoke into the night,
ghosts lit through the windows of seedy bars
and other desperate places. her red lips
stretched in a wolf’s smile
are no consolation you can fathom.you find yourself in a crouch, knees collapsing
like brief empires.strangers with hollow eyes
cry emergency, beckon
for resurrection.here, filtering breaths through your hands,
every second spreads down your back
like a burning forest.no angels survive in war zones like these.
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good grief, keep going!
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i’m glad you like it :) you think i should continue and add to it?
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yes!
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tiffanylu posted an update 2 months ago
cities. signals. smoke. (amalgamation)
ii.
always hand to mouth, eating up the crumbs of your heart
that you vomit and swallow and vomit and repeat–he moves to the side, at the edge of the mess you lay in,
shoes and pants clean.the way his face stills is a filthy thing.
all you hear falling from the chimney of his mouth
is a steady litany of suicide notes, manic
encouragements.you could bury yourself in them.
i.
each day is a struggle. you say the sun will not wake with you.
lonely street lamps exhale steam through
a third floor window.you breathe it in like second-hand smoke, let it fill you
until you become a pile of ashes
rising to the ceiling.
a sorry imitation of a phoenix.iii.
“don’t you have anything to fight for?” he asks.
you nod yes. “myself,” you say,
but the one skewered on the end of your sword
wears your face,
smiling through a mouthful of blood.if you were still capable of it, you’d both be crying.
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tiffanylu commented on the post, signals 2 months, 2 weeks ago
always hand to mouth, eating up the broken crumbs of
your heart that you vomit and swallow and vomit and repeat–he moves to the side, at the edge of the pool you find yourself kneeling in,
shoes and pants clean as he yells manic encouragements. -
tiffanylu commented on the post, signals 2 months, 2 weeks ago
each day is a struggle. the sun will not wake with me.
lonely street lamps exhale steam through
a second floor window.i breathe it in like second-hand smoke, let it fill me
until i become a pile of ashes
rising to the ceiling.“don’t you have anything to fight for?” you say.
i nod yes. “myself”, i say, but the one skewered
on the end of my sword wears my face,
smiling through a mouthful of blood.if i were still capable of it, we would both be crying.
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tiffanylu commented on the post, knock 2 months, 3 weeks ago
a stranger comes by on a sunday evening,
trying to sell me the grace of God
with promises of love and fulfillmentthe pamphlets he hands me feel like
cheap napkins fallen off of diner tables,
the ones with neatly scrawled ‘call me’s,
an invitation to lonely bodies.i don’t know what i’m waiting for.
he adjusts his glasses.
genuinely: no miss, i can’t stay for tea,
i’ve got so many people to speak to
tonight. and i think, what is this new life
i’m supposed to find if i’m still standing
by the burner alone?i close the door on him when i can no longer
meet his eyesand even that is done without conviction.
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tiffanylu commented on the post, sanctity 3 months ago
a refraction of light across the ceiling
smooth like prayers in a language you
don’t know how to speak.laying in the dark, hands still on your chest
pull loose threads until they give.breathe it in, the taste of tears
again in your saliva.(you could be looking at stars.
these are your stars.) -
tiffanylu commented on the post, think 3 months, 2 weeks ago
black tar rushes up my throat again.
i shut my teeth, but it leaks. it leaks, it leaks,
and my white dress, the one my mother gave me
when i once made her proud–
i feel the silk stick to my skin.i can’t think. the room is stifling
with the quiet of your arrival. it feels like loss.
my blackened smile is something hideous that you
force yourself to look at.you never asked, and i said too much.
my heart is running on black tar,
each beat a violation. -
E A M Harris replied to the forum topic Welcome, but who are you? READ FIRST in the group
Active Users Of oneword 3 months, 2 weeks agoHello, I’m a writer, reader, blogger, wanderer round the internet. I love to read a variety of opinions, ideas, fiction and poetry.
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E A M Harris posted an update in the group
Active Users Of oneword 3 months, 2 weeks agoGreat to see a group with so many members writing so much.
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tiffanylu posted an update 3 months, 2 weeks ago
when you play the piano your naked form shivers,
fingers slipping on each note, something of
a scream.your throat clenches around wool.
let it swallow your spit.
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the pill:
no one listens when you speak, not even yourself.
and the only ones who might hear your song
are the keys you are playing onbut even they have come alive
under better hands than yours. -
E A M Harris joined the group
In a world of my own 3 months, 2 weeks ago -
E A M Harris joined the group
Active Users Of oneword 3 months, 2 weeks ago -
E A M Harris commented on the post, systems 3 months, 2 weeks ago
All systems go! But they aren’t. Most of them are only partial go. The rest are stop. All systems down might be more accurate. No matter. We are used to it. We can manage without systems.
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tiffanylu posted an update 3 months, 2 weeks ago
one day i’ll burn down my childhood home,
the one we sold over a decade ago
when i still thought crying
could change something.it is a tomb in my memories where i find myself
at night, running and running on
away from the demon i was sure slept under my bed.what i find in those dreams
is instead a box, empty save for photographs
of all our smiling faces.i want to burn it all,
the room with one window where i
used to daydream, where my mother tucked me in
every night with a tired kiss.at that time, the only ‘i hate you’ i knew
was in another language
and i had not yet started
saying it to myself.it won’t let me go, this place that has become
a fish bowl, a draw bridge, blank walls with no door.once everything’s ash, there’ll be nothing left to run away from
except myself.and i’ve long gotten used to that already.
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tiffanylu commented on the post, speak 3 months, 3 weeks ago
our conversations
lazy stretching into the dark
the sound of
getting to know myself again.words spill over the edge of your lips
something we won’t remember
but for faint watermarks left
on the coffee table.-
Beautiful.
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thank you. :)
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tiffanylu commented on the post, sound 4 months ago
my childhood was preparation for life without a father.
not in the way a hand clenches a photograph, or even
the tears product of divorce.
i don’t mean loss.but i am quiet now. i sleep quiet, speak quiet, cry quiet;
quiet burrowed in the pit of my stomach
and there was never anyone
to coax it out.when i was young, sometimes i’d walk downstairs on the balls of my feet,
eavesdropping on the hum of late night tv
and rumbling snores.i learned not to ask why my father slept on a couch
for seven years; why
he came and went from our dinner table
like an unplanned guest.our family photo albums aren’t empty
so much as they don’t
exist.this is what i mean by absence.
it is quiet, without the weight of
a bombshell. it is dust in the sunroom
where someone once sat
but has since forgotten. -
tiffanylu posted an update 4 months ago
notes to self:
little girls in nordic helmets, cheeks streaked with ash. the demon tapping your foot as you sleep. wild dreams. our distance measured in tugs on my skirt. once there was a boy i laughed with over umbrellas. art and artificiality. painted lips. testing the stretch and curl of the words in your mouth (spoken only with contempt). simple like the flatline of a heart monitor, gone silent when i looked away.
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