Silver Daux

Joined May 2021

400 stories

Bio

Shadowed souls, cursed magic, poetry that tangles itself in your soul and yanks out the ugly darkness from within. Maybe there's something broken in me, but it's in you too.

Ah, also:

Tiktok/Insta: harbingerofsnake

Achievements (9)

Stories (400)

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In The Roots
I water the plants at midnight Not because I am a creature of neglect, But because I am pulled by the suddenness of the need,
By Silver Daux3 years ago in Poets
The Fall of Alique
The cigarette smoked, curling around her lips in the windless night. Soft embers nibbled at the burning paper holding the fading bits of tobacco as Alique took one final drag on the cigarette. She spat the butt from her mouth, watching with semi-apathetic interest as it cartwheeled down the rooftop. It rained orange onto the shingles before bouncing off the gutter.
By Silver Daux3 years ago in Fiction
Quickly, Slowly. Dying.
It thumps. It taps. It bangs. Hello, hello old visitor, New friend. Welcome to the madness Staining the sky this unholy red.
By Silver Daux3 years ago in Poets
Spectator
I wonder where you will be when the dust settles, When the cobwebs are littered with the speckled remnants Of old memories longing to be forgotten.
By Silver Daux3 years ago in Poets
The Squall Line
I am barely restrained. Lofting high above roadways and untravelled Forest paths running amok with desires. I float on the current of the squall line
By Silver Daux3 years ago in Poets
Melancholic Clock
Typewriter poems won’t fix the melancholy Seizing my throat Like a man maddened by disease, Foaming at the mouth with fear and a quiet “please”.
By Silver Daux3 years ago in Poets
Always Together
Always. Together. Always. Together. Always, together. He fisted his hands in his black hair, staring at the coffee stain on the pale linoleum between his legs.
By Silver Daux3 years ago in Fiction
Voices on The Wind
I hear you calling on the broken winds. Honey eyes melting into sunrise, Beauty collapsing under the pressure of Volcanic plumes. Ash. Snow. Fallout.
By Silver Daux3 years ago in Poets
The Current
Crestfallen, empty, overflowing with the sludge Pouring from tar-tainted breath, I wilt. I blossom. I perish. The shadow of a hawk ripples across my pale petals
By Silver Daux3 years ago in Poets
T H I R S T
Let me haunt the pretty things Cluttered in the corners of your eyes. They look delectable in the honey sunlight Of your private mourning session.
By Silver Daux3 years ago in Poets
Porcelain Prairie
I will never forgive the porcelain dolls unbroken By the sticky hands of childhood. Shrill screams and dirty nails never ripped the pretty hair
By Silver Daux3 years ago in Poets
The Little Things
It was always the little things. The rogue strand of red hair reaching high for the dim yellow light of morning. Freckles lifting as she sneered down at the breakfast I had prepared. The vile way her molars chomped on cereal. Milk splattering to the table. Drying. Sticky on my fingers as I cleaned up her mess. The image was so clear in my mind that when my alarm twanged its little tune, I jolted as though I could already hear the smack-smack-smush of breakfast.
By Silver Daux4 years ago in Fiction