Melissa Ingoldsby
Stories (1297)
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Yule
I remember the last solstice. The first, longest, bloodiest day of my undead life. I find that the longer the days can gobble up the night, the longer I can remember the pain of my ancestors. Their climbing ambitions. The scale of ecstasy that we have reached. I have read through our histories. The navigation of the zombies in the human cities and towns. The villages.
By Melissa Ingoldsby2 years ago in Futurism
Possessed
I step into the fire once again. The void between the walls of the living and the floors that divide us into death. I feel the pain of being a lost soul that clings to non-entities. I will destroy my enemies with a hell forged sword and slice their throats. They'll die. Whoever did this to me, They'll be obliterated. All of them, die. Dead, dead, dead, die, DIE.
By Melissa Ingoldsby2 years ago in Fiction
Ache like a rock
mother, cradle and rock did you carry me? You carried me, It was a great pain, did you know that Carrying is a pain that feels sweet dragged into a somber defeat, defined as motherhood, a stalemate, you let them know that it's not a game yet you play Heart carrying a stone inside, soft from the wild river Little layers lost, a gentle destruction It feels numb and hard and soft and with tears, wet and Wild and willful Did you carry it with you
By Melissa Ingoldsby2 years ago in Poets
