The Grim Weeper
Bio
"And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free." John 8:32
19 year old amateur
Stories (9)
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We Are Killing Ourselves
The world wakes up at six A.M. and all of us shuffle to work. Eight to five, Monday to Friday with two days off a week. We groan like drones and rot to our bones for companies who'd replace us without skipping a beat. Tik tok, we stare at the clock with our aching, sunken eyes. "I hate this job," "I hate my boss" become regular songs we sing.
By The Grim Weeper3 years ago in Poets
"Freedom"
History is being made today. We're living in a future child's history book... What an odd concept to think about. I can't say I ever expected to go through a pandemic and the possible start of a 3rd world war before I even turn 20. I'm not really a political person, but I've never felt so in the dark. There's so much going on and I have no idea what's going to happen next. Gas prices are rising daily, the economy is crashing, we're on the verge of World War 3, and inflation is striking us fast.
By The Grim Weeper4 years ago in The Swamp
All I Am
Every day, when you get home from work, you want to be greeted with open arms and a smile. But how can I do that for you, if I’m busy wrapping my arms around myself in agony? How could I bare to risk unraveling the only things holding me together to make sure your pieces are tightly bound?
By The Grim Weeper4 years ago in Humans
Wanderer
The screams of a rooster startle me awake. I can’t feel a thing… or rather I can feel everything. Every ache in every joint between every bone. I don’t think straw is anywhere near a good mattress stuffer. Stretching out the kinks in my body, a few of my bones sing their usual morning praises of cracks and pops. I rise from my nest of hay and dirt, dusting the filth from the fabric of my clothes. I can’t even remember feeling sleepy after my nightly chores. I don’t understand how I could’ve just fallen asleep in the horse’s breakfast. The rooster crows again.
By The Grim Weeper4 years ago in Fiction
Blindly
Stepping forward, her toes graze the edge of the ledge. She gasps in the cool morning air. At least, she thinks it’s morning. She’s sure her nose is pink from the cold breeze dancing around her. Her lips must be turning a slight purple. She has been led here, quite literally, blindly. She hasn’t had the gift of sight since she was 12 years old. “A stroke of terrible luck,” she’d always tell herself. What are the odds that a random, 12-year-old girl from Salem, Massachusetts would be involved in one of the most gruesome vehicle collisions of 2019? Losing her sight and her father that day, nothing has ever been the same.
By The Grim Weeper4 years ago in Fiction
Don't Fall
“Don’t!” Someone screamed. She looked behind her. Who said that? She was the only one on the roof. She could have sworn she checked every foot of this area and blocked the door behind her. For a moment, she dared to call out to whoever had spoken to her; but decided to ignore it for her own good. She turned her head back to the scene below her. Toes curled over the edge, she took a deep breath and imagined what the sensation would feel like.
By The Grim Weeper4 years ago in Fiction
