• lynn commented on the post, plates 11 months, 2 weeks ago

    we went to buy them together.

    or maybe i went to buy them alone, and your mind was somewhere else while your corporeal body drifted next to me, in and out of existence. you said they were pretty. and i agreed. they are very pretty. even now, with a thin layer of dust over their surface, they look delicate and look more fitting to someone of…[Read more]

  • lynn commented on the post, photography 11 months, 4 weeks ago

    i’ll never get to capture you.

    you’re so many things in a person at once, all fire, all soft, kind and gentle but callous, sharp, honest and cold, with the warmest brown eyes but the snidest, most cutting glances. you’re a contradiction in a piece, a mystery by all regards, but a wonder by my judgement. the curve of your mouth is more often a…[Read more]

  • lynn commented on the post, builders 1 year, 1 month ago

    “you see them?” you say carelessly, waving a pale hand towards the invisible barrier between us and them, unbroken glass, clear and clandestine. “they’ll never be like us,” you continue, sweeping your bangs out of your eyes, eyes dark and flickering with some unknown emotion in the muted light. you never say that we’ll never be like /them/, though…[Read more]

  • lynn commented on the post, fun 1 year, 1 month ago

    and he’s off, feet against the dirt, racing the sunlight, arms stretched out in front of him, mouth agape in a breathless gasp and he chases the wind, tossing his head. his eyes are bright and flickering as he peers over the open air, holding onto nothing, mouth curved into a sharp, raw grin. he says he chases the adrenaline and the vertigo and…[Read more]

  • lynn commented on the post, oasis 1 year, 1 month ago

    the moment he steps forward and slips into his awaiting arms, his pale eyes seem to drain of exhaustion, instead glowing faintly in the muted light, as though the life within was threatening to spill out. he holds on tight to the other boy, his hands desperate in their searching but kind in their touch. he lets out a long exhale and buries his…[Read more]

  • lynn commented on the post, floorboards 1 year, 1 month ago

    there’s a melancholy in this hall, like all of the students that ever been here were lingering faintly like kind ghosts peering out of the shadows. a faint breeze picks up the heavy curtains and sends them swishing over the glass, and i walk slowly up to the stage. not long ago, i had been up there, mcing an event with all the nonchalance in the…[Read more]

  • lynn commented on the post, iceberg 1 year, 1 month ago

    oh god, i’m in love with you.

    i didn’t know. well, maybe i did, but i didn’t think too hard about it.

    i saw you in a dream last night. we were together, and we were happy.

    /you/ were happy. and that was the most important thing.

    i’m terrified. what do i do now when i see you? my heart seems to stutter and i feel more self conscious…[Read more]

  • lynn commented on the post, stalk 1 year, 11 months ago

    you haunt my dreams like a ghost, a lingering shadow always behind a door, a whisper, a dream, an idea. you stalk my thoughts like a wolf does its prey, except this time the lamb would easily succumb under its claws, because i melt under your eyes as swiftly as the morning dew, relenting, blue fumes swallowed in red.

    – i’ve always loved you.

  • lynn commented on the post, automatic 1 year, 11 months ago

    there is so much tension in the air that i feel like i could faint. there’s words traveling through the room, but all of them pointless, and meaningless in a ridiculous way. she perches as a lady should on the edge of her chair, all grace and poise, and he stands there by the clock, eyes grappling to find somewhere to focus on without…[Read more]

  • lynn commented on the post, altitude 2 years, 1 month ago

    you are fire and flame, red tongues licking up the sky, bursts of power coming to existence in the form of explosions. you are not just a person, no, you are you. you are the sensation of sharp vertigo, of dropping onto earth from a high altitude, of the contrast between black and white. you are the both the first damp gleam of sunlight and it at…[Read more]

  • lynn commented on the post, louder 2 years, 1 month ago

    you were so quiet. you crept into my life like the end of a flickering splint, light, glowing, but still there, having the potential to burst into life when doused into oxygen. i didn’t notice you. not at first, at least. you were understanding, soft-spoken, and unbearably gentle, like some kind of blossom that’d fall apart at a touch. you were so…[Read more]

  • lynn commented on the post, waltz 2 years, 1 month ago

    this part always hurts the most. it burns, really, for a second, then i see you eyes widening as i begin to fade. and that’s okay, i’d say, quietly, because you won’t remember me after all this. and then i close my eyes, and everything goes away. the darkness lets me go for fleeting moments and i see what could have been, so close to being real.…[Read more]

  • lynn commented on the post, doorway 2 years, 1 month ago

    i don’t think much about it anymore. i wake up and you’re there, dressed impeccably, with your grey eyes somehow bright and hair tidy, starkly different from how it was the night before. you always wake up first. i smile and walk over to you, and as i touch your cheek the tender expression blossoms on your face like a flower. there it is. “see you…[Read more]

  • lynn commented on the post, shapes 2 years, 1 month ago

    you say you see colors bursting behind your closed eyelids, supernovas binding your gaze to the stars and all the jupiter moons, the reds and blues and greens and yellows all rushing, swirling, into an immense glow that lights you on fire. everything’s blurring, all the shapes, you say, in a breathless voice, reaching out forward. do you see it…[Read more]

  • lynn commented on the post, misaligned 2 years, 1 month ago

    we were never meant to be. we were just people, two of them, standing where we are as the world crashed and burned and died and lived around us. we hovered on the line between the overworld and the gritty underworld, where dealings exchanged hands as easy as they would drinks. we were just broken people lost like everyone else. we were never meant…[Read more]

  • lynn commented on the post, swerve 2 years, 9 months ago

    his body processes what’s going on before his brain does. rising up of nowhere in front of him is the back of a truck, and his eyes widen in shock. his hands move by themselves as he yanks the steering wheel with force; muscle memory, and he is almost too afraid to look when his car veers wildly to the right and into the trees the second before he…[Read more]

  • lynn commented on the post, answer 2 years, 11 months ago

    he listens to the rings coming from the other end of the phone, and he doesn’t quite know what he’s waiting for anymore, and his hand is cold and trembling on the device, and the chill is wrapping its tendrils around his heart. he whispers under his breath “please, please, please” and he squeezes his eyes shut when the the voicemail audio plays.…[Read more]

  • lynn commented on the post, thieves 3 years ago

    she stepped out of the tower, but she could no longer see the servant. unable to stay on her staggering feet, she stumbled to the floor, weak from fatigue and malnutrition. he had come when she least expected it, in the dead of night, and stole what she had left. hours passed and she stayed shivering on the ground like an unsupported pile of…[Read more]

  • lynn commented on the post, recover 3 years, 2 months ago

    “you won’t be able to play again.”

    she sits, head buried in her hands, eyes dry and out of tears to shed. she looks up at a beep from her phone, and she picks it up with a shaking hand to see the message.

    gisele!: hey, you haven’t been coming to school the past few days, is your leg holding you up? will you come to practice when you…[Read more]

  • lynn commented on the post, stagnation 3 years, 2 months ago

    there was something in their faces, grey, and… weary?
    not quite, it was something rooted more deeply in their flesh.
    with every step the people turn sluggish and their eyes turn white-blank.
    a repeat of every day that eventually came to become something else;