Fake sky
I’m tuning in to drop out. I’m just trying to figure how. My tv keeps calling me. The radio has a white noise screen. I just tried to put an unlit cigarette out. The channel on my phone is jumping around. Did that cat just laugh at me.
I don’t have surround sound but music is coming from all four corners of my room. I know, I just need to go outside. It’s even worse the clouds grow and die. There’s an eeriness to this sunlight. I must of feel up a thousand miles with my eyes but I’m convinced it’s fake sky’s.
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Cranial Origami
poetry short stories NFTS
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Rig
[Rig] I just wish it were fancy again. A truer savage Christ stamped down upon kingdoms where wayfarer blight is never heard of in a trudge of aesthetic post’s about you’re pets and makeup tips. Oof! So I shook winters crystal to melt as summer was pressed to the land with a kiss. My swollen pupils and sweated brow await remedy from a prick self Minister. Thy papal seat the rails tracks where that new rose thorn grew between the main line registers the same color but now both lie flush and flush. A lone flower standing over it’s final resting place.
By Cranial Origami2 years ago in Poets
TICK TOCK
11.59. Even though the glass had shattered, Lorna could still see that her watch ticked over. One minute until midnight. Her watch was the only thing she had that she could carry. The only thing to remember her parents by. A birthday present from last year, the year she turned seventeen.
By Elizabeth Butler4 days ago in Fiction
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