All That Was Left The fey was already in the behemoth's mouth. The snap of her ribs rang out above the grind of molars. Teeth likewise grinding, Bane dragged himself beneath the beast. The crunch and shatter of bones above mirrored the pain that seared through his legs. Doing his best to ignore the pieces of the girl dropping down around him, Bane dragged his sword from its sheath. As another piece brushed past his cheek, Bane glanced down. His focus wavered as he saw what now littered the earth.All That Was Left by Shoeborn
Petals were raining from the dryad's mangled body. Soft and pink, they fluttered down to the earth. The hooves of the beast crushed them to nothingness, but still they coated the landscape in the remains of something beautiful.
Bane pushed himself to his crooked knees, body screaming in protest. His hair was full of roses. They darkened into crimson as he plunged his sword into the belly of the beast.
His DisputeGod and IHis Dispute by Shoeborn
had a falling out;
he got the stars,
and I walked the earth.
So when you compare dandelions to the sun,
don't flinch at my spittle
his creations bend at my touch
you being one of them.
Cough out your pomegranate teeth,
for blood draws lines between
the heavens and I,
but I gave in
to delights worth falling for
while my father husband brother dearest
looked on and whittled away
at what he thought would be my unraveling.
I guess he was right, because,
I am afraid of my skin
and just who it will someday betray me for.
Let the floods wash away my sins
forget what once was in fossils
footprints on desert flats.
My lover's smile
God frowned at what glories
he had wrought in absence.
Open your eyes, not your legs
for I am the firstborn liar
the long-lived snake.
Sip deeply from my mouth,
only to find venom hidden in my laughter.
Angels leave craters when they hit the ground;
I sunk the ocean.
The Last-Night WarningsFrogs rat you out after darkThe Last-Night Warnings by Shoeborn
and crickets croak what melodies
you hid under your bed, to smolder in the silence.
Call me anonymous,
and I'll slit your throat with a bedside manner
Thanatos would grin to recall.
There's a shifting in the elms
wind sifting through the memories of a summer
still warm in the ground,
beside pale form and isosceles shoulders.
Let the leaves fall where they will
and the rains devour what remains.
I hear them telling secrets
about the oncoming winds, and clouds,
sooty welts on the horizon.
You wound me like barbed wire never will
so take your words, your hail, your voice,
to someplace more suited to an apocalypse.
Now eat up what the bayou spat out
and I'll open my bedroom one last time
to glass idols, and your decrepit worship.
Lady love, don't come hither,
these poisons turn the curses out;
you'll be naught but bones by morning.
Before the moon opens its glassy eye,
impetuous daylight, call me home.
Sing me a song about bare skin,
and who bit first; I bet th
5'4 and a half, 106 pounds, usually.When my mother stands with her back to mine5'4 and a half, 106 pounds, usually. by Shoeborn
I still dip under.
5'4 and a half; not short, not petite
not a delicate damsel to stand against the sky
lily-white and slender, no,
5'4 and a half,
106 pounds, usually.
My body can't quite make up its mind
so I sigh at numbers and write my own
because I feel just the same as I look.
Yes, I am my mother's height, barely,
with her hips and thighs and deep summer eyes
but with my fathers bones
sloping beneath skin
that hungers for daylight, but only honeys,
My mother tanned her skin to leather,
that bunches at her eyes when she smiles.
"be pale, be white, be fair,
because cancer isn't."
So I don't talk about nicotine,
and she sighs when we try on clothes.
We can't measure back to see
if my grandparents looked much like me.
My aunt was a ringer, under her catty glasses,
only she worse crosses, and I wear skulls.
My father's eyes mellow into memory when he looks at me
at photo albums, and I wish i could tell him