#5 of Scrapbook
New story next week. Here's a poem for the now.
Hold closed the eyes
Feel the wet crease
Feel the new warmth
Feel all too much
Yet nothing remarkable
Not worth reliving
Deserve nothing
But accept the gift
Clutching back
Shiver and yearn
Remember, remember
And wipe clean
Fly over grass
Or step the path
Gently unashamed
A phoenix undeserving
The feathers are damp
The bones are hollow
ONE * * * "I've known for a long time now that Penny's my person. You helped me remember that when I was going to give up. But the thing is, I don't think about you like how I think about Penny. She's family. You and I are more complicated. I-In a...
**Chapter 1** * * * Tarot panted, exhausted. Her short arms propped herself up on her knees. She craned her head up at her boyfriend. "We're not quite out of the splash zone yet," she wheezed. "The 'what' zone?" Peanut asked. The two dogs looked...
Hands aren't meant to feel this weird I'm not meant to spend all day looking They're not meant to rash They're not meant to bloody They're just supposed to be, Another part of your body That we use as tools, To try not to damage Too delicate,...