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Weekly Contest #376
My Grandmother still creeps around in her corpse. She wont be forgotten by the world, she holds on. We buried her on a dark day, but wood and soil won't restrain her. We see her sometimes, but it feels like a hollow dream. She walks through the forests looking for things to think about, foraging for an identity beyond the grave. She has a house somewhere obscure and its deathly cold and houses a vicious cat, untended fireplaces and strange odours that rise like steam in a cemetery. Its not her ancestral home, and she's used to better, but he...
Weekly Contest #375
I've always known I'm a bit different. Maybe I'm packed with Ego or the terrors of the centuries. I wander round, my voice weaved into the old. My blood pulses with England but the hills are older than my blood, the green and pleasant lumps in the skyline. I walk around my complexity and pretend I am not alienated but written in the stars and the soil. Today I am visiting the home of my ancestors, catholic and of the aristocracy. Ripped wide open to the public who come here to feed on history and absorb the day in those stone walls and lovel...
Weekly Contest #374
CW: Themes and/or references to mental health issues and drug abuse Every morning we were given cocktails, even before breakfast, the subtle crunch of cornflakes or the warrior weetabix or even the pale porridge. Before that our nerves were handed over to the nurses, the pharmaceutical industry and each other. Despairing we would limp in the queue with eyes of wildfire and shock and would allow this journey to inhabit our days. Strange thoughts would wander about and sometimes they would go into the wrong head, or be heard in someone else's...
Weekly Contest #373
She sat in her chair, letting her thoughts run round like insects, borrowing and carrying. Foraging for better or more, staying small. When all she wanted to do was climb up into that universe and admire the view, know things. She resented being buried in this pit where nothing she liked would come to her. All her dreams, broken, in a shallow grave. Her body refusing to function. Her soul she had decided, was most definitely displaced but in this grave somewhere. She had asked the insects, but despite their dedication and hard work, t...
Weekly Contest #372
Creepy insomnia walks all over me, adding fuel to my nightmares. When I pause, and dip down into sleep I face demons that crawl like spiders over the body of my soul. They want something from me, but I am too frightened to look into the stolen suns in their eyes. I have my moments of courage, watching for the full moon, waiting for them. Hiding behind the silhouettes of trees, observing the proper reception of those with influence. I sit with them and sip tea while they tell me of their plans and they burn like wildfire against the God who h...
Weekly Contest #371
Lost Again In the mist of the old hospital, ghosts shrank from each other. The dead walked, without walking and the living built fires in the broken windows, to do what shouldn't be done in the vibe of an empty building. A grey thing heaved around, carrying a leaden ball with no respite and I briefly recognised it as my soul. What I am I doing here? said a thought without a brain. The Grey breathed a sigh, and drifted towards the fire, in which he threw his ball, but it bounced back to him temporarily flattening him until he picked it up ag...
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