Tag Archives: Melanie Thomason

Sweatshirt

Digital Bug Bowl 2021: Insect Museum Day - Bug Bowl

How wicked of a thought must you have to jostle a mind already organically filled with evil?

What is your terrible longing?

Piercing butterflies to save and study beauty you will never possess?

Plucking feathers from wee birds because you will never fly?

The truth is no matter how much you ply yourself with alcohol and other forms of courage I will always call your bluff.

You hit me in the face with your fistful of bad words but just what do you think you shall inflict on me with your vulgarity?

You are as threatening as a damp sweatshirt.

I am not afraid of you.

 

~Melanie Thomason

8/31/21

11 Comments

Filed under Poetry

math

my pain multiplies

memories divide me

is my innateness a welcome addition?

does my otherness subtract from my intrinsic value?

my family was f*ucked up to the 9th power

is my father the square root?

do you know, what is the sum of me?

~Melanie Thomason

8/7/2021

7 Comments

Filed under Poetry

creatures such as we

Another murdered midnight

under a starless sky

The words between us hang heavy

like the weight of the secrets we keep

Love is a cruel deception

for creatures such as we,

living in perpetual drought

If I could only tell you the toll it takes

being one of your lost causes

I hate it, though neither of us is innocent

The truth echoes among us

When I close my eyes the red rope tightens

I think of all the things we do in the dark

the silence sings as the rain starts

~Melanie Thomason

8/5/21

14 Comments

Filed under Poetry

peach

 

 

Photo by LuAnn Hunt on Unsplash

today i wondered

if joy tastes like a peach…

would it tickle my tongue with it’s fuzzy skin?

would it dribble happiness down my chin?

~Melanie Thomason

7/29/21

11 Comments

Filed under Poetry

Quote~Marquis de Sade

“To judge from the notions expounded by theologians, one must conclude that God created most men simply with a view to crowding hell.”
— Marquis de Sade

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Filed under Poetry

Untitled short story

She was dying so slowly from the poison that she never even felt ill.  Or maybe it would be more accurate to say that she had never felt well but she just didn’t have a point of reference.

If one is always in the darkness do they miss the light? Even if they’ve never experienced it?

Yes, yes they do.  She had dreams and fantasies of course but never the energy to even attempt them.  Her imagination was the only part of her that was truly alive and reading fueled her.

She at the moment was living a stationary life, too weak and limp to even get herself out of bed.  But in her mind she was hiking up mountain trails, riding wild horses and visiting big cities with immense skyscrapers she only ever read about.

She heard the comings and goings in the rest of the house and wanted to know what was happening, maybe even be included for once and she tried to call out but found herself too hoarse to manage more than a whisper.  A voice fades from lack of use.

She once again found comfort by carefully unfolding the tattered and yellowed piece of stationery that she always kept on her.  Within its creases she spied the tiny pill, its presence reassuring.  She still had some control and when she was ready she would go on her own terms.

 

~Melanie Thomason

7/24/21

14 Comments

Filed under Stories

Bind

lies that bind my wings

intentionally or not

stop me from flying

 

~Melanie Thomason

6/27/2021

8 Comments

Filed under haiku, Poetry

Contagion

You were fully aware

that it is contagious.

Yet,

you pointed that yawn

right at me.

~Melanie Thomason

4/5/2021

7 Comments

Filed under micropoetry, Poetry