bougainvillea
I still remember Snow White. She was my least favorite of the Disney princesses, and in the end, still managed to get the prince. Now I dream all the time about the poison apple, making her already white skin flush further. Biting into it and falling into a new type of darkness.
His rage was undeniable. His face was easily read, the blood blooming to his cheeks in instant fury. His hand raised, his temper boiled. Hand met cheek and she lay on the ground and sob.
A man shoved past me, sneering as I stooped down to pick up all of the plastic straws. Working in a fast food restaurant sucked. I sighed and shoveled the straws back into the cardboard box.
"Need some help?" It wasn't a fimiliar voice. A man's voice, deep and low.
A night of trial and error. Balloons on the floor. Alcohol in the air. But who knows? Maybe it won't be a wasteland when their parents return.
My heart
straining.
I watch,
afraid with silent tears.
My soul
twists into a deadbolt
terrified to let you in.
I turned, reaching for something, anything to throw. He deserved it. Anything I could get my hands on. After a few books and a balled up tshirt, I reached for my heels. I paused, holding them in my hand. I looked at his face just then. He didn't care what he'd done. So I launched my new red stilettos straight at his face. I didn't care anymore. I hope he scarred.
I swept the hair off of my forehead, rushed, panicked. Everything, my entire life, is ruined. I have worked my entire life for this career and now it's gone. All of it's gone. And now it all boils down to the pink line.
They surrounded him. Red, black, gold. He piled them one on another, creating mountains of cards. An endless room. The breeze came and blew them all down. He begins again.
It drips down the side of my mouth, hot from being melted in the microwave. I fill up the trays and set them in the fridge. Then, I kiss you. Drizzled chocolate and all.
And his red cape swung in the air, a beautiful freedom that comes with carelessness. The bull, angry, felt threatened. Surely, it bounded forward, lunged towards him. The blood came out slowly, as if draining a pool. And as he looked into the bull's beady black eyes, he smiled.
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writing since 2008 · 18 entries · 17 days shown up
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