The Reaper

I listen to your heartbeat in the hallways of the churches that we visited as children, before you ran away. I can hear it in the echoes of the choir as they sing their hallelujahs, conjuring and curling the memories of your smile into smoke from the snuffed candles on the pulpit. Your soul on … More The Reaper

Imposters

There is nothing in the darkness But smoke and shadows Flickering off the old rooftops of Eerie broken homes Shattered windows the broken teeth In wooden clapboard faces Rotting under the cruel hands Of rain and wind and snow and sun Bearing down like strong words Whispers in a crate Hidden in the attic Your … More Imposters

Atlas Body

Today the earth shattered. Mine did, at least. I watched my husband leave me and the kids without even a second glance back. I write this without any added dramatic flair. He told us he was leaving. Midas asked if we had done something wrong. My husband had glared at me, his mouth turning down … More Atlas Body