• Emma commented on the post, microphone 8 years, 1 month ago

    I stand, shaking, and cup the microphone. Nothing is said, and as I cry people make murmuring noises and touch their hearts. “Poor girl,” they think. I don’t care what they think.

  • Emma commented on the post, pills 8 years, 1 month ago

    Turned around and caught him. Hoped that they were prescribed, but when I tripped and fell into him later, we both stumbled. “Sorry,” he said, “I’m high.”

  • Emma commented on the post, darkroom 8 years, 1 month ago

    Mr. Koop told the boys to leave, and I smiled. His favoritism and sexism was the best part of photography. I stood, in braids, by the projector, and he rested his hand on my shoulder for a few seconds too long.

  • Emma commented on the post, relatives 8 years, 1 month ago

    They were there in photographs and grainy home videos. After the deaths I regretted so many sullen and separated years.

  • Emma commented on the post, solved 8 years, 1 month ago

    Math class in 6th grade will always be made a mockery of. My teacher couldn’t speak english well, we talked in slang and she couldn’t understand us. Then we would laugh.

  • Emma commented on the post, furnace 8 years, 2 months ago

    Fiery eyes peek from the corner of the basement, but I’m not scared. Never was.

  • Emma commented on the post, spider 8 years, 2 months ago

    Sliver, heavy string hangs in the trees, and I all I can think of is “storyteller.”

  • Emma commented on the post, drain 8 years, 2 months ago

    After that night I couldn’t see you anymore.

  • Emma commented on the post, edition 8 years, 2 months ago

    I’ve always wished to be a journalist.
    It’s dead. And I will never get to see my name on the newsstands, because there are none.

  • Emma commented on the post, whim 8 years, 2 months ago

    It was high school. And he was there with curly hair and a lovely jaw-line. I thought we would fall in love.

  • Emma commented on the post, wake 8 years, 2 months ago

    Opening eyes are always bleary. When I cried like a bird, her eyes were red, making them more blue.
    Waking to the smell of smoke a good friendships.