I’m in the Mall’s food-court
again somehow
and I didn’t order this drink
I mean
I did order a drink but not this
obviously diet
this Diet Pepsi tastes like diet sadness
my empty pockets full of fucks I gave
exchanged for countless stolen pens and lighters
I’m older but the Mall hasn’t changed
I see
naïve girls who probably
assume all poets are romantics
the food-court Goth girls
all red-flags and caution tape
who can only open up
with a fresh stack of razorblades
Anime is huge now, apparently
not so much back when
the women were 8-track tapes
in my one-track mind
and I was an asshole
I mean
I AM an asshole
just less so now
About the Creator
Joey Rounds
Ventura born, N.C. raised, In Reno is where i’m spending most of my days. Father, blue collar serf, pseudo-intellectual, big wave surfer (waves of depression). I wear a crucifix necklace, just in case I get stabbed at a 7-11 Redbox.
Reader insights
Nice work
Very well written. Keep up the good work!
Top insights
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Easy to read and follow
Well-structured & engaging content
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
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More stories from Joey Rounds and writers in Poets and other communities.
Killing him slowly
There’s an intruder in my house again. He stumbles through the door, wet carrier bags in hand. He’s bought me offerings. I show my appreciation, letting him caress my beautiful body. He wants to touch me. I rub myself against his legs. He sighs, dropping the bags. He can’t resist touching me. Running his hand slowly down my spine, I arch my back towards his caress, let out a low purr. It’s what we both need.
By N J Delmas3 days ago in Horror
Comments (1)
Your usage of metaphors and similes are on point!