~by-loosh

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About Me Member General Fiction Writer by-loosh16/Female/United States

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Numbers

The moon was high on the evening of the twenty-second, and twenty-two gravestones stood gleaming in its white. A passing rain had rocked the crows to sleep and washed the surface of everything to a false polish. The trees around the cemetery were still dripping. In their branches, the crows ruffled their feathers against the silence.
The cemetery was old, and like all places marked by time, there had been a process at work there for several hundred years: a fading of the numbers and words upon the gravestones, a crumbling of their history. The first stone had its foundations in 1793.&nb

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NumbersThe moon was high on the evening of the twenty-second, and twenty-two gravestones stood gleaming in its white. A passing rain had rocked the crows to sleep and washed the surface of everything to a false polish. The trees around the cemetery were still dripping. In their branches, the crows ruffled their feathers against the silence.
The cemetery was old, and like all places marked by time, there had been a process at work there for several hundred years: a fading of the numbers and words upon the gravestones, a crumbling of their history. The first stone had its foundations in 1793.&nb Numbers
by ~by-loosh

Tribute to the Bathroom GospelHere is the gospel: the scriptures on the wall. In between the mortar, the prophets tell us all.
Here the toilet lies alone, waiting for a kiss. Here the wall's erased and open, daily blanked for bliss.
"You are here" in particles "and here" upon the earth "and here" within the universe waiting for your birth.
"I just want my face" on the pillow here at night with you next to me in bed. "On your cheek" the moonlight's spread, and the moisture on your eyelash is like Ursa's eye in starlight.
"We are all brothe Tribute to the Bathroom Gospel
by ~by-loosh

For Leander
by ~by-loosh

On Pain of SleepThere is a certain physical aspect of sleep deprivation that sometimes makes the body appear as though it is in pain. It is a long, slow ache along the spine and arms: the spine because the day's compression has caused its surrounding muscles to constrict and tighten; the arms because hanging on an upright body all day gives them no support, no softness from beneath. The ache is a signal to the mind: "Let me lie flat for just a moment, on my back or on my side. Let me lie on my back without concerns of sex or wondering whether or not I want it. A horizontal position can be quiet and immobile like th On Pain of Sleep
by ~by-loosh

I like my skulls. Mm-mm, skulls.

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I am high off of pain.

Mon Sep 7, 2009, 4:12 PM

Mood: Lmao
Reading: The Narrative of A. Gordon Pim
Watching: The Hangover
Playing: Final Fantasy: Crystal Chronicles
Eating: Grilled Cheese
Drinking: Tea

Apparently my friends think I'm high off of pain. I might have fractured my foot, and the health services people haven't given me any crutches, but my friend Lauren forced me to be carried back down to my room earlier.

Then I ate part of a grilled cheese sandwich, realized it was my roommate's, and hobbled back upstairs to Taylor's room to gush apologies all over the floor like a bucket of spilled water. Then when she assured me it was okay, I started cracking up, and Laurie asked me if I had been taking too much pain medication.

I haven't taken any since this morning, so she told me to hobble on back downstairs and take one so that I wouldn't appear to be so high off of my pain.

I haven't taken any yet.