LONE SCRIBBLER

By Mercy Godwin 4 months ago

A candle burns in the dark. 

Hot wax leaking down my fingers, and

Searing pen to paper as the supine figure comes alive.

The silence squeezes into a fist my ear drum.

I'm a heap of broken mirrors,

Balled up sheets and shattered glasses

I pull my sleeves and skin myself

Gnaw my brain to sip moist nectar

Dripping down my chin to blank open pages.

I'm a zombie, an alien draped in creative license

Hidden in a vault of unspoken words.

 

 

 

 

 

Recommended Stories:

{{item.User.FullName}} {{item.Date | preetify}}


|

{{item.Message}}

{{sub.User.FullName}} {{sub.Date | preetify}}


|

{{sub.Message}}


create stories
×

Notifications

{{item.Message}}
{{item.Date | preetify}}

No Notifications Here Yet