seannelson
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My stories
writers' blockade
my mind is blank like a lonely twilight stage when the audience is in their beds and the absinthe perfumed actors winding down their decadent parties I've nothing but clocks on my hands,
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- 694 reads
my intoxvacation
somewhere off the coast of Thailand, a land of black volcanic rock and meter long black monitor lizards crawling about the perpetual hunt that's lasted millions of years...
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- 515 reads
the human desert
I've a distant past of frequent drumming rain, green ferns and humming life... but my geology has turned and the sun now burns an alcohol alkali landscape dry and hoary
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- 353 reads
high
head as blank as a summer chalkboard or an Arctic mile, stripped of furniture stripped of wile stripped of pain stripped of bile chemical umbrella artificial May opioid sunrise
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- 1145 reads
sketch of a psychiatric unit
The nursed gate has a thousand detailed inquiries: how many calories have you gained or lost, have you been abused and are you a ghost? and what drug did you first try
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- 1946 reads