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Literature
Autopsy
her skin moans at its stitches
until she gasps for formaldehyde breaths
out of stiff sterile lungs
she waits for eyes to meet the unhinged
porcelain bones that rattle neath red
but shadows have swallowed her and her friends,
the ones who lie on metal with her, who,
with pianist fingers, trace her spinal cord like it’s braillebut she doesn't feel their chilled white fists dig like roots
neath her canvas flesh
or taste the stale flavor of a cadaver, anymoresome lost boys and a few misplaced gods laugh in glass jars,
laugh like the first twinge at a scalpel’s slice
they all watch her unravel through their yellow looking-glasses
with a formali...
Literature
Advertisements
She was only six when the funeral homes started sending us advertisements, all competing with each other to be the best, to win her business. To win our business, more like; six is hardly old enough to understand what's going on. It's not old enough to understand why everyone is covering their mouths with their hands and failing to hold back tears when you walk into the room, or old enough to understand why people begin to outright sob when you start talking about what you want to be when you grow up. Once it was a doctor, before that it was a fairy princess, but right now it's a policewoman.
And of course all the children have heard about...
Literature
Suicides Learning To Speak
It’s 6 a.m. A girl is beginning the journey back from Oz, anchored to life by the whirr and beep of machines and tubes. Above her emaciated body, nurses pace, write on clipboards, click their heels and purse their lips. She is oblivious. Her mind drifts in freefall, stuck in an eggshell skull wrapped in nasal gastric tubing and an oxygen pipe forced down her throat like a synthetic umbilical cord. Somewhere, neurotransmitters are sewing themselves back into conscious awareness. There is a person lost somewhere in that body. There is a mind overboard in a black sea, sending up a flare. The nurses are afraid that she will stay in there forev...
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Six-word stories are probably the most difficult to write. Wonderful job.