Creative Writing Blog: Blossoms

As I fold a shirt and place it in my backpack, fingers trembling, I realize that there are no flowers this time. Jordan brought me orchids the first time it happened. He showed up at my door at 7:00 a.m., eyes pleading. He tenderly kissed the red swell on my cheek and told me he loved me. I nodded my head and went to go find a vase. I loved him too, after all. The second time it happened, he brought me daisies. I woke up to the bouquet on my windowsill and the smell of pancakes cooking downstairs. I crept down in my nightdress, a cardigan draped over the oblong patches of bruising where my back had hit the […]

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Creative Writing Blog: Post Pubescence in G Major

Maybe if I just stopped eating keratin and snipped the smallest ends of my braid I could live suspended in the era of my youth before every man who taught me how to cuss and every woman who played me the piano become antique echoes (mahogany acoustics muffled by six feet of soil) and each of my wrinkles is a prophecy fulfilled. (Bb)itch (D)amn (C#)unt (F)uck (Gsus)goddamn. All the best things are moving in cycles. I was born of asteroids and decomposed corn husks and (one day) my body will be no more than a compacted dust pie of sedimentary rock. Layers and layers of strangers’ skin cells and small swaths of wildebeest fur will become the new top soil; my […]

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