• I adjust my coat, peering at myself in the mirror as if I were the one person on the hiking trail who had bright pink hair. It has been so long since I’ve had to act the gentleman, I’m not entirely sure that I can do it any more, and waves of nervousness were rolling in my belly in a way they never had before. At least, not when I was wearing a…[Read more]

  • The grove seemed altogether less defined than I would have imagined a ‘grove’ being. A grove, after all, sounded like a single object – like a hard pill of plants, six or seven trees so close together that they looked to be one, that I would have had to struggle through the undergrowth to find my way. This didn’t look like that at all. It was more…[Read more]

  • “Go on!” The man cried. I glanced back to look at him, perched unsteadily on the brink of the ship, through the sheets of rain, before looking back on the rocks. I hauled myself onto one of the sharp columns, blood dripping from my hands and mingling with the water. The rope trailed behind me, swung by the wind just as I was. If only I could find…[Read more]

  • a terrible poet commented on the post, cyclical 5 years ago

    It was cyclical. Thought to action to thought to attempt to break the cycle to failure to thought. He was just like this, he knew. If this wasn’t how it was meant to be, then why should it be so hard not to follow his imperative? Why should he be the only one that had to fight this every second of every day? What made him so special that the…[Read more]

  • a terrible poet commented on the post, attuned 5 years ago

    I’m not attuned to anything right now. I’m disconnected. I don’t know what to write, and I can’t reach the part of me that does. I can’t see, but that must mean there is quite a great gap between all of my pieces.

    I pat my stomach, my skin, check that I am all there and all here.

    I seem to be so. But, hey, size is relative, and most of an…[Read more]

  • a terrible poet commented on the post, falter 5 years ago

    I felt my step falter. I had been moving evenly – left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, left, right, left, left. I glanced back at my followers, at my friends, and their eyes went a little bit questioning, as if they hadn’t noticed a thing, and they were wondering why I looked at them so alarmingly. But was that it? Was it really?

    I…[Read more]

  • a terrible poet commented on the post, elegance 5 years ago

    I disliked his style of programming.

    There was no /elegance/ to it; I would look over the code he was collaborating, and sure, he would fix the issues that I had described. But he would do it in a way that wasn’t clever, that wasn’t tidy, that I just couldn’t let remain in the final product.

    And then I would see *him* peering at me in…[Read more]

  • a terrible poet commented on the post, greedy 5 years ago

    The creature was greedy, I thought. It sounded like a stereotype, but it was true – the dragon, hatchling as it was, had gathered up piles of bottle caps, those silly activist brooches I could not help but accrue, and bits of scattered yarn that I heartily suspected came from some of my favourite shirts. I would need to set aside more space for…[Read more]

  • a terrible poet commented on the post, amused 5 years ago

    I stood there, stoicly unamused at his antics. Honestly, I projected, what did he think? That he was *funny*? There was no way in seventeen theoretical dimensions he was ever going to make a theatre audience laugh with this sort of…

    I giggled.

  • a terrible poet commented on the post, locket 5 years ago

    I never was one for necklaces. I would look at them, think ‘my god, that’s pretty’. Sometimes I would buy them, although I had stopped doing so a while ago (it cost too much money) because I would never, ever wear them. I might hook them around my neck, but then I would consider for a moment, and take them off again. It didn’t seem sensible to…[Read more]

  • a terrible poet commented on the post, gesture 5 years ago

    “Okay, and what should the gesture for ‘no’ be?” I grinned at her, the two of us curled awkwardly in a corner. It was not out of sight, precisely, but the walls were in shadow enough to blend in with our skin and the dirt dusting our clothes. Whenever someone walked by, we would freeze, casual muttering turning to whispers, our lips barely…[Read more]

  • a terrible poet commented on the post, pity 5 years ago

    “It’s a pity,” I said. I had hoped that would be enough, but it had not been, and I could not stand the way she was looking at me right now. I didn’t know what else to do, though. I was expected to grieve, but I was not bothered, and when I tried to cry, the sobs stuck in my throat.

    I wished people would stop making such a big production over her death.

  • a terrible poet commented on the post, doubt 5 years ago

    I doubted any of this was real. I doubted the feeling of the floor beneath my feet, the structure of my body – four limbs? In that configuration? Really? I doubted my name (it sounded contrived) and I doubted the brightly-coloured plants I could see through the window right now. Plants shouldn’t be green, I thought. How could they be real? I…[Read more]

  • a terrible poet commented on the post, flattened 5 years ago

    I felt like something in my chest was being flattened. Like six tonnes of rock had somehow forced themselves between the spaces inside my body. I felt so terrible I could hardly force out a single word. “How could you…?”

    “You told me,” he said. “You told me you wanted him out of the way. So we could…”

    He drew closer to me. I shook. I…[Read more]

  • a terrible poet commented on the post, underdog 5 years ago

    “We want to make ourselves look *worse*?” I muttered.

    “Not worse,” he said, adjusting his tie. “Like we haven’t quite had the opportunity to do any better. Like we’re not powerful.” He turned to me, and I avoided his eyes as I always did. They were too cold. “Everyone roots for the underdog, Margaret.”

    “Understood, sir.” I stared dully at…[Read more]

  • a terrible poet commented on the post, failing 5 years ago

    “What’s wrong with you, Jessica?” He said. I did not know how to answer. I hated this. I hated him sitting across from me, looming no matter how much he tried to get on my level, I hated being asked what was wrong with me. I hated knowing something was. “You’re failing all your classes, you’re hardly even /going/ to school – no, don’t think I…[Read more]

  • a terrible poet commented on the post, never 5 years ago

    I said I’d never do it. I’d promised.

    This was what I thought about as my eyes met his, as I struggled with the words caught in my throat and on my tongue. “I’m leaving you,” I told him. “I can’t take this anymore.”

    I expected his angry reaction so much, I hardly noticed it when he stood up and yelled at me.

  • a terrible poet commented on the post, conviction 5 years ago

    He put his hand over my neck. He didn’t strangle me – just put his hand, gently, around my neck, made me feel vulnerable and uncomfortable.

    And I found I could no longer be angry at him. My feelings seemed deeply unimportant, not worth acting upon. He had sapped me of all conviction.

    He took his hand away, and, dully, I grabbed it; dully, I…[Read more]

  • a terrible poet commented on the post, flexible 5 years ago

    It was odd how someone so flexible could be so very inflexible, I thought. Ironic.

    She did yoga, but she always did it in the exact same order, always did it at the exact same time. She could not handle anyone else interfering, or anyone else walking in on her.

  • a terrible poet commented on the post, broaden 5 years ago

    “You need to broaden your horizons,” she said, sitting next to me on the flat roof.

    I crinkled my nose and turned my face away from the smoke getting blown my way. “You need to broaden your scientific horizons,” I said. “I’m not smoking.”


    “Cancer, girl. Just because our life sucks doesn’t mean death is any better.”

    She scoffed.…[Read more]