Zozojay
It was crystaline ecstay in a tube. In a needle. Breath in deep and the smoke crowds your lungs, fills your mind and soul and every recess of your body. Smoke is insidious. It's the others you get to laugh at- as though the fear of somethign so bright- the sparkling
the thing was- well. She didn't wanna quit. Thats what they always say- the ones she knew were out there, hiding on the street, and in the air, and even in her eyes if she looked to hard- stared for too long at a face that was quickly becoming a stranger
It hit the water with a plop.
And then its chemistry collapsed
I said goodbye,
before its time, and it woke me, for pain of oil
on stone
His hands were wrinkled.
His eyes, they twinkled.
And with a careless
laugh.
He
let
us
know
his
wrath.
It isn't fair that they have left us all. In broken puddles. Wantless heaps. They mock us, and when we reach our filthy hands for the bottom of their robes they kick us to the ground. We revered them once. That time is gone. What once was God has been revealed as Devil, and all comes falling into the great deathless fathom.
"Steady." It felt like a shout in my ear. "Steady." It felt like he whispered it just to torment me. "Steady." I wanted to hit him. "Stop." I wanted to kiss him.
His hands shook.
I wrapped them in my own.
Steady
Steady
cursed them with my mind
Say you wish you could run away with me
His hands did not still
my hands did not move
Say you wish we could live
forever
together
But i was steady,
and he shook,
so
it
could never
be
The road was crumbling. Dorothea couldn't quite stand there and look at it. To be honest the first time in this terrible, terrifying place, walking down the neon yellow road of bricks had been quite enough for her. She certainly hadn't really liked it all that much then, but now suddenly, to be back, and see it crumbling, falling apart like so many things in her life was all that much worse. The counselors said 'Oz' was her subconscious. Her own, twisted way of trying to deal with Auntie Em's sudden death, the whole life she created for herself as an innocent Kansas farm girl a lie she told to deal with the one simple fact she couldn't bare to. Her Auntie Em was dead. And she was the one who had killed her. But she knew the counselors were wrong, just as she knew the judges and juries and officers were all wrong to. Oz was real, she had been framed, and she had come back looking for answers. Or to crack some tiny, Munchkin heads. She hoped the fact she didn't have a preference didn't mean she was a psychopath.
They were stacked, one on the top of the other. Joy tried to tear her gaze away. She knew that at any minute they would call her inside from recess, but there was something about the wall...about every deep red brick that caught her attention, that made her pause. There was something wrong with that wall.
The rose had been slowly dying for the last day. I'd been watching it, showering it liberally with the special mixture LeeAn had made. But it was no use. I knew it, the rose was dying. And so to, were we
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writing since 2013 · 48 entries · 21 days shown up
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nowwronghandsgirleyesmeanfamilybrokenquietdeathwallminddeepheaduponfact