Prose Poetry: Boneyard

And there was a roller coaster. A piece of glass. A long, breathless run. I broke my hands and now they’re useless. I broke the birds and now they won’t fly. I broke everything. I broke everything. If there was any way to explain this, if there was any way to make the words form … Continue reading

Prose Poetry: Ancient

A gray wind gusts and my spirit bones are sent down, down, spiraling down. There is a thick fog here, and though there is a light in the distance the mist filters it so that it is barely anything, barely a whisper in the darkness. I am enveloped in something dangerous. It is far more … Continue reading