Tag Archives: writing
Sometimes I am sitting on a bench, and the darkness sits next to me. It is wearing a skin of ash and embers. The darkness says, “I am sorry.” The darkness says, “I did not want to lose your universes.” … Continue reading
Sometimes I search for the unswallowing place. I think maybe if I can find it everything will go back to how it was. The darkness and I will be back in Midnight Hollow. It will be wearing the shadowskin and … Continue reading
Sometimes there is no meaning. Other times there is. Sometimes I eat the apple. Sometimes I don’t. Sometimes the darkness never came, not through the mail or the toilet or the window or anything. Sometimes I bleed to death, down … Continue reading
Sometimes I am not quite all here, which is something. It’s better than definitely not being here. The screaming stopped. Eventually. The skin came back. Some of it. Slowly. I often tell the human that I want to wear a … Continue reading
Sometimes the darkness and I…. Sometimes the darkness and I…. Sometimes the darkness isn’t here.
Sometimes the darkness and I hide from color devouring aliens in the hold of a cheaply made boat. I ask, “Do you think that they are going to enslave us? Or eat us?” The darkness says, “They will probably eat … Continue reading