Cut

Let’s make a little slash

Somewhere nobody can see

Triggered visions alluring

Of making just a little tear

Just ’til there is no blood to spare.

 

To silence that voice

That gnashes at your senses

Gashes none to big

Would do the trick, it confesses.

 

Cutter in that drawer

Knife in the kitchen

Appealing red line

To remind me that I can

Oh dear, I’m getting that urge again.

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Drabble #5

While his thought processes seemed to be much more free-flowing, like the stream running down the mountain, in the moments the words expelled from his mouth, they sounded lagged as though bulky, jumbled blocks of wood were being ejected instead. So when he attempted to describe his feelings for the moment, it came out as nonsensical paradoxes that made people want to pretend to understand.  Continue reading

Drabble #4

He established himself as an atheist, and yet on occasional moments he glanced at the sky, he could not help thinking that the glorious way the white puffs, hiding behind the sun spreading its rays in all directions like strands of needles, could only be the work of an intelligent artist. It was much too beautiful, detailed, and…intentional to be Coincidence.  Continue reading

[Drabble 3]

He was overflowing with addiction. In this state, he could not think, but only act. He could not pause, but only go. He could not slow, but only speed up. He reduced to a state of impulsive and yielded to his greatest instinctive desires. He had effectively reduced the state to Animal, a level in which all humans have the privilege of possessing and more importantly, choosing.  Continue reading