~Reasonably-Sunny
the land-lord's daughter
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Self-Portrait in F SharpYou cannot break a mirror—maybe multiply yourself as I have, fragmented and scattered but now focused—just a lock of hair—the corner of a lip— and there I am, a sliver of a girl—staring back. See—at the knife edge of my eye the glint is giddy—guilty, maybe—not a side of myself that I'm used to seeing. Granted—I fill up the glass but I've been half-empty before—and the face reflected back may just be grift. For my part— it's a small one, but it's sharp—the skin is just a sham. Ignore the eyes. The tongue is hidden well-Self-Portrait in F Sharp
by ~Reasonably-Sunny
Sonnet for AbsenceHe breakfasts opposite an empty chair and on his darker mornings, over tea he tells the seated absence absently how much he loves her, as if she were there. This morning, well aware he is alone he rises restlessly and takes a walk (on other days he doesn’t want to talk— avoids his neighbors and the telephone.)Sonnet for Absence
He cannot bear to look. Where roses grew the garden is reclaimed by weeds once more. His daughter visits, but not frequently (she’s children of her own, and things to do.) His new companion settles on the floor: his shadow, stretched out
by ~Reasonably-Sunny
Timothy Prince Timothy Prince wasn't helping his career. He was soothing his conscience. The position at Mercy didn't pay as well as his job at the neurological clinic in Washington, and the hours were worse, but once he'd made the mistake of mentioning the opening to his mother he had known he would take it, and now he was here, twenty-three minutes into his new job, standing outside the Stroke Unit with a stack of patient files and a strong desire to flee. Dr. McKinnon, the head of radiology, was shaking his hand, and saying how glad they were to have him. There was nothing Timothy could do about it anymore but try to not toTimothy Prince
by ~Reasonably-Sunny
sick, sisterWhen you're sick, it shows. It clings to your bones. Your body has betrayed you, but your brain is the double-cross. You are dying and they blame you like you chose this skin-tight suffocating horror in your mind.sick, sister
Who gave you that article on the dancer with your disorder – six foot two and ninety two pounds – her heart shut down on stage but she probably didn't notice. That girl is your sister, you have seen her in the sunken eyes of girls in supermarkets, restaurants, at table three, on aisle seven, shivering as it all stares back accusingly. &nbs
by ~Reasonably-Sunny
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: The middle bit of the US.
- Tools of the Trade: paper, pencil, cat.
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Just the other day I was like... wow, I haven't thought about DA since, like, 2005.
Hi, S. <3
Why don't you join the poetry contest from [link] ?
It's free and every nitwit such as myself who enters gets a small gift
but someone like you might win one of their $10 000 or $100 000 prizes.
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Oh, so I need a sig now, is that it?
... and your signature is just awesome. Cthulu!1!
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* * *
Nostalgic for 80s fantasy films. When glitter was cheap, monsters were muppets, and Evil was smexy.
*The-Labyrinth-Club
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Love many, trust few, do wrong to none.
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