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I walk along the ground one foot in front of the other, because that’s the way my mother taught me. I drive my keyboard letters home in a deliberate fashion to feel certain I’m really typing these words that people are oh so fond of. It’s just a bit odd, to me.

Posted By Ryu-son Sanzui On 07.14.2008 @ 10:12 am

The colorful piece of fabric wraps around her neck to cover the bruises on her un-naturally thing neck. Rainbow, tasseled, happy, hiding all she doesn’t want the world to know. She bought it at the mall with her best friend, even. The best year of her life. 10th grade.

Posted By Ryu-son Sanzui On 01.01.1970 @ 12:00 am

I look at the clock, and it looks at me. It’s cracked, vintage face, wary hands with stretching, reaching fingers, stared at me, mocking me with it’s taunts of time. I stare with my young, unmarred face and small hands. We’re evenly matched.

Posted By Ryu-son Sanzui On 08.17.2008 @ 10:52 am