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Yesterday

6/24/2015

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He used to hold her umbrella as they walked hand in hand.
That was 20 years gone by and only she and the umbrella remained. 
Still she walked with him,
Still by the hand,
and the umbrella - a compassionate friend. 
Rain or shine, it mattered not;
The umbrella brought them together
And with its help together they stay.
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Stooge

6/16/2015

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I wanna be your dog.
I wanna be at your call.
I wanna sleep at your feet.
I wanna walk by your side and play in the garden.
I wanna lay my head on your leg as you read.
I wanna be the one you talk to
When no one else is around.
I wanna be by your side when all others fail.
I wanna be the first thing you see in the morning,
And the last thing you see at night.
I wanna cuddle you.
I wanna lick you.
I wanna sit by your side when you're ill.
I wanna crouch at your feet.
I wanna wear your leash.
I wanna be your dog.

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Night

6/8/2015

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Dirty and dank
Cracked walls filled with years of dust and the memories of her crumbled life.
She tried to maintain her former self. 
Yellow flowers on the nightstand covered in her grandmother's linen.
A teddy bear from a child she once called her own. 
She had been in the room so long,
Her sanctuary turned prison,
The only link to the outside - crumpled newspapers on the floor. 
The grayness of the walls closing in,
The rancid odor of the pan she kept at the foot of her bed,
all became too much. 
They found her - 
Single light bulb in the corner of the room - 
Naked body hanging off the bed, 
Photos of dreams collapsed strewn 'round her head.

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Kink

6/8/2015

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There's some kink in that kitten. 
I understand you're hurting. 
I understand you're cold inside.
It's a ritual.
Symbolic humiliation.
Shock factor.
A good place for an ambush. 
A blitz attack.
If this is rage and addition; 
He's not done yet.
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Fractured

6/8/2015

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She was an apparition. 
You could actually see through her.
She was fractured bits,
Held together with ribbon and string.
Her face, dull and flat.
Her hands at her sides, fingers slightly rubbing the top of her trench coat pockets.
She was fractured and seemed to fall to pieces as I watched. 
She crumbled.
She broke. 
She finally cracked. 
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    Author

    Audrie is a writer and editor living in Illinois. She is a fan of all things horror and pop culture.

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  • Home
  • Showcase
  • Audrie Bretl Roelf
  • Molly Roland
  • Wicked Stories Showcase
  • What We're Looking For
  • About
  • Wicked Events
  • The Writers' Props!
  • Writer Bios
  • Hear Ye, Hear Ye!
  • Contact
  • Gallery