Comments Posted By Rune
Displaying 1 To 16 Of 16 Comments
Is my life at the moment. It’s as if a tornado swept into our family silently without notice. We are all spinning inside it bumping against debris we can not see only feel. There is the strong growl of the wind in our ears reminding us we are not in control –
» Posted By Rune On 05.18.2016 @ 6:20 pm
a girl with a pursed face, the faces esoteric and smell like blue calico quilts and crowded rooms and foreign mold and customs you would never understand, little sibling in a backpack she carries with her. long line of tattered people.
» Posted By Rune On 12.18.2015 @ 9:31 pm
Into the fuschia cracks I am always running, spread tempera across my fair skin, I would have tried to shimmy out of that one too- this fair skin of mine, and the automatic padding it affords me- run into oblivion a better nanny than the thick depressive taunting
» Posted By Rune On 12.18.2015 @ 9:29 pm
Castles made of stone.
Brick and mortar.
Drawbridge and moat.
The princess is in another castle.
» Posted By Rune On 10.14.2015 @ 6:47 pm
In the heavy rubble, glittering bone
we scrape together
piles of bird, and ash
this is where the ravens gathered
this is where the first clover grew
the walls of thick blanket, the garden behind the stone wall we call
» Posted By Rune On 10.14.2015 @ 3:13 pm
constant clicking reminder its time for the next scene, only the great glittering fags and fairies and shuddering bleeding whores wipe off their wounds, peel away their lashes, whereas, after the credits click in our digital all-minds, wounds spill into seething pain, shrieking into crescendo, death as a denouement
» Posted By Rune On 09.29.2015 @ 8:57 pm
laying beside a brand new him, the lucy he gave me tickling my intestines, the ground becomes holy geometric covenants, my human skin is melting, the soft bee flesh consuming me, everything turning to honey, to honey, to honey, to honey
» Posted By Rune On 07.05.2015 @ 4:38 pm
It’s like the tree’s blood! Oozing amber frangance between my cold, ignorant fingers, beneath the owls musing in the night- how much more those feathered creatures know of this land than I, my body is too big for the delicacy of the ecosystem, I squash whole countries of ants beneath my violent feet. My frame is too tiny for the vastness of the sky- what was that?! A mountain lion? O o, o I will be swallowed whole. The bit of tree-goo now sticking to my face, where my vacant hand leapt up in fear- these floppy things won’t save me from gravity. I love you.
» Posted By Rune On 06.07.2015 @ 1:16 pm
Drop a line
Deeper into syncopated wave
I could gut it, you know
I could lick a scale and tuck the smell of it between my fingers
show everyone in the morning
proof of belonging
nestled my face under the irridescent skin
» Posted By Rune On 05.18.2015 @ 7:54 pm
» Posted By rune On 03.15.2015 @ 2:49 pm
Butter fingers and napkins full of bits of scattered pig. Beyond that, the deranged swollen gang green of bugged eyes smacking lips lapping lick “more, more, more, more, more, moorreee!” You will choke on the fat of your neck stuffed pigly into starch shirts, a mother that never loved you, refused to believe in you, saw always the girl in you, begged for you is begging, we all are, turn back into girl. Unstarch the shirts, blue the collars. Piggies, you will never satisfy your hunger until you find what it is you truly want to eat. For now, I glue your pictures to my dart targets. Fuck.
» Posted By Rune On 10.13.2014 @ 8:25 pm
Mama had thrown out her back, the better for us little monsters to dig into our bums and spread poo across the walls. Too low for mama to reach, she seems extra saggy today. Mama, why are you crying? She lights a candle for the virgin Mary. That night, I dream I feed my poop to Jesus who licks his lips and says, “yum.” Soon after he vomits tufts of sheep’s wool. Mary walks in and says, “What a mess!” and swiftly spanks my bum. I wake up in a cold sweat. I clean the wall myself. There is a stain left behind, in the shape of the Virgin Mary.
» Posted By Rune On 10.08.2014 @ 5:13 pm
The tarot furrows their ancient brow- you have been doubter child, unable to trust. When will you trust? Just be vulnerable. Darling you’ve mistrusted even your skin. Mentor, tarot, Gaia, clown- you’ve forgotten. I knew with every tooth of mine doubt was foreign, sickening, I retched and pissed and splayed every rawness and was hauled off to grey walls so how can you say I am not vulnerable? Darling it’s this doubt that keeps me weighted.
» Posted By Rune On 10.06.2014 @ 10:54 am
Teetering small padded remember when mine were soft flesh now gnarled hardened yellow knotted suggests how far I’ve travelled down rough roads and on burnt embers. What did you take from the rabbits den? How many rubies? Where are your rubies ? What are you even doing here child, without any rubies? Foolish the overcompliant, your good behavior has bought you ignorance. Chew off your calloused skin, start over. Re-toddle. Re-taught All.
» Posted By Rune On 10.02.2014 @ 5:31 pm
putting things to gether, fixing things, tents, tables, craft kits. those are the things i think about when it comes to instructions. not sure why, but i guess its because all of them have step by step ways of doing things. also school for some reason…. teachers telling you how to do things.
» Posted By Rune On 07.21.2012 @ 8:41 pm
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“IT’S SHINY!” Okami Haipa shouted. “It’s so shiny and sparkly and pretty and it GLOWS~!” The tall girl began spinning around, her dark brown pigtails flying around her due to centrifugal force.
“Hai!” Her older sister (who was actually her best friend, but they were so close they referred to themselves as sisters) ran up beside her. “What are you doing?!”
Hai held up a glowing turtle. “Her name is going to be Sandykins!”
» Posted By Rune On 03.21.2009 @ 8:18 am