garretttyler
Every day, the same damn thing. I wake up in the morning, brush my teeth and hair, throw down a few bites of cereal, and walk out the door. Every walk I ever take brings me past the old used car lot, now an empty asphalt field.
Dangling from her fingertips, the round loops of metal jangled as they smacked against the hard wood. They soared from her hand and bounced off of every step with a cold metallic laughter as they slipped away from her, leaving her to get colder and colder as the blood stopped coursing through her veins.
His fingers slid over the green felt. Nothing felt better to him than the smoothness of the table or idly playing with the plastic chips - caressing their ridges, reading their numbers with his fingertips. Yes, it was an addiction, but he was okay with that.
Fruity and sweet, her perfume called me, taunted me. I locked my eyes on her as she stepped closer. I knew that there was no possible way I could ever let her go. The love of my entire existence was in arms reach.
The flame, nonexistent, smoldering life. Everything glowed in the red-hot embers melting away into black nothingness. The gray streams of smoke perfused the room with the intoxicating scent of magic.
Invent the creation
destroy the loss
nothing new
nothing flat
nothing
nothing
nothing
the watery grave
the pillbox scattered
nothing anymore
i tried
i lost
but there's definitely
nothing anymore
Brown. Muddy. Dusty. Creamy. Dark. Everything was made of dust once upon a time. That dust is still everywhere. Inescapable.
charging along the electrical interstate
freedom of thought
ideas
exchange
nothing but differences now
pulses aside
the spark of the candle
burning
inside
The thread slipped through my hands for th hundredth time. I sighed in exasperation and almost threw the needle and thread to the ground. It was a pointless endeavor anyway - trying to learn to embroider. It was only for my love, to make a project that would tell her how much I truly cared.
The revolver shuddered in my grasp as I held it tightly, barely able to stop it from shaking. Actually, that wasn't even possible. I could barely even hold the thing, let alone aim. It jumped as I pulled the trigger. Finality.
load more entries
writing since 2011 · 18 entries · 18 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means garrett-tyler showed up.
5longest streak
18days written
4.7entries / week
the words garrett-tyler reaches for
stopimportantanymoredustexceptcoldhardroundemptysoundeardrumsheadeyesbarelypossiblethread