Veins | A short story
the earth whittles away at my bones, until there's nothing left, but dust. and this darkness, it's like a scalpel to my spirit, ripping apart & murdering every piece of goodness, it's like evil dug itself underneath my skin and festers there, boiling like a pot of water on the stove, overflowing into a mess of melting, painful vapor. and evil, it flexes its nasty skeletal hand and chokes me, and I grab at the ground, my screams coming through silent as I am in shock. how did this happen? how did I get here? how did the darkness climb across the brick walls that barricade my heart? how did it seep into my veins like a needle breaking through my skin, the unnatural vaccines flowing into my circulation.