thoughts-at-the-end-of-the-world

[thoughts-at-the-end-of-the-world]

Stuck

Stuck in sucking marsh mud

Stuck

In slowly digesting, writhing slime

Corpse’s fingers wrapped around the throat

Of an untamed God’s broken downfall.

Stuck

Bloating flesh

Writhing worms that crawl upwards

Outwards

Into the burning sun

Scorching a little demon’s frozen flesh

Throne for him

Besmirched by a Queen

Stuck

Blood on the cracked lips

Torn from breasts of a beast

Warmth of mother’s blood boiling the throat

Of a little demon who cried to be king

Stuck

Burning hellfire in the eyes of

One who could never hope to be god

Of his- her shadowed, flaking form

Stuck

Reaching hands into the sea

Dragging out whale bones

And plunging them down

The throat

Of an untamed God’s downfall

Stuck

Little demon

Sink

Lower, deeper

Sink

Stuck.

[thoughts-at-the-end-of-the-world]

Atlanits -- A Lost Sonnet By Eavan Boland

How on earth did it happen, I used to wonder that a whole city -- arches, pillars, colonnades, not to mention vehicles and animals -- had all one fine day gone under?

I mean, I said to myself, the world was small then. Surely a great city must have been missed?

I miss our old city --

white pepper, white pudding, you and i meeting

under the fanlights and low skies to go home in it. Maybe what really happened is

this: the old fable-makers searched hard for a word to convey that what is gone is gone forever and never found it. And so, in the best traditions of

where we come from, they gave their sorrow a name and drowned it.

[thoughts-at-the-end-of-the-world]

Who’s ready for dissection. The doctor is in.

Mad scientists will be like "I know a place" and then strap you onto the autopsy table

[thoughts-at-the-end-of-the-world]

One day, I want to see the ocean. Somewhere out there is an endless expanse of water lined by sand and stone.

You said you saw it, right? Maybe we’ll go together.

[thoughts-at-the-end-of-the-world]

Sometimes

I hear the crows calling

And I ask

Why? For who?

[thoughts-at-the-end-of-the-world]

I can’t sleep.

Why did I ever bother thinking I could?

I’m not sure I ever have

[thoughts-at-the-end-of-the-world]

It stormed today. I saw a lightning bolt dance across the sky. It was almost as beautiful as you, spinning in the pink sundress with gold flowers.

#apocalipse #fiction #post apocalyptic #alone #rain and thunder #thunder #writing #Spotify

[thoughts-at-the-end-of-the-world]

I skipped pebbles today in the river. I’ve never been quite good at skipping pebbles.

I remember when the river ran orange from the sinking sun. When you would hand me the flatter pebble so that I’d have an easier time skipping. We’d see who would make it further and you would always win. The sun would sink away and we’d giggle together into the night. You’d always throw your last pebble too hard just so I could beat you once.

I miss you.

#alone #apocalipse #fiction #post apocalyptic #writing #pebbles #I miss you

[thoughts-at-the-end-of-the-world]

The words were swept out of my throat.

Let me free.

It’s already midnight. Can you believe it?

#apocalipse #post apocalyptic #fiction #alone #writing #horror

[thoughts-at-the-end-of-the-world]

The last time it snowed seems like thousands of years ago. Those icy crystals on my tongue, the way they stung my face.

It’s far too warm now to snow. And yet, I see something soft and grayish white drifting in the air. It burns, just as snow did. But it is no cold burn. Instead, it leaves small, burnt blemishes on my flesh.

#writing #fiction #post apocalyptic #apocalipse #alone #snow #ash

[thoughts-at-the-end-of-the-world]

I found some old succulents in one of the abandoned houses. One of them is Aloe, I think. I decided to put them in our house. Maybe we could take care of them together when you get back home. I know how you adore small plants.

#apocalipse #post apocalyptic #fiction #alone #writing #succulents

[thoughts-at-the-end-of-the-world]

There’s something in the air. It’s heavy and heady and stuffs up my lungs.

There’s something in my breath. It fills my throat with molten lead and rips my heart to bloody shreds.

There’s something in the sky. It’s cold and dark and full of a hatred that rends my flesh and bones away from this mortal plain.

There’s something in the air.

#writing #fiction #poetry #sad poem #alone #post apocalyptic #apocalipse

[thoughts-at-the-end-of-the-world]

I agree. He gets so genuinely excited when he sees them. The first time I offered for him to hold one, his eyes got all wide and there was a huge grin on his face.

SO I let my little 8 year old step brother pet the leeches. He absolutely fell in LOVE with Dracula. So today during school he drew me lovely pictures of the bois.

[thoughts-at-the-end-of-the-world]

Dear Rhodes,

Are you alone right now?

Am I alone right now? I have reason to believe I am, even if I cannot remember what that reason is.

I love you, Rhodes. Even if you will never hear my words again, I love you. More than emptiness and silence and food in my empty stomach. I love you.

But you will never reach this, never hear this. Let me go, that is all I ask of you. Will you please let me go?

Signed,

Lilly

#dear Rhodes #a letter #by Lilly #alone #post apocalyptic #apocalipse #writing #fiction #horror

[thoughts-at-the-end-of-the-world]

There’s something about swimming when it storms. There’s a tingle to it. The taste of ozone is heavy and the end of your life could strike lightning quick at any moment.

It’s beautiful isn’t it?

[thoughts-at-the-end-of-the-world]

It’s hard to hunt with a limp.

Hard to hunt when there’s nothing to eat.

Hard to hunt when my chest is full of cotton and mold. When vines are creeping into my lungs and tearing at my skull. When my lips are torn and cracked. When worms are chewing pocket holes into my endlessly long limbs.

I should have started a farm instead.

#writing #horror #end of the world #post apocalyptic #apocalipse #fiction #alone #hard to hunt #tripophobia

[thoughts-at-the-end-of-the-world]

It’s midnight again.

Is it midnight for you?

How far away are you?

#alone #writing #fiction #horror #post apocalyptic #apocalipse