Cut It Out Anita Marie


I enjoy

dark humor

gallows humor

whistling by graveyards

where I will

dance upon grave after grave


Friday the 13th

Black cats and breaking mirrors

just to hear you scream:

Anita Marie… you’re a devil!

And I will take you hand and say as gentle

as a dry leaf landing on an dark lifeless street.

” I’m not a Devil, I’m the Devil and you’re my evening treat.”

Daily Writing Prompt: Chuckle

Go Away




The truth is,

I used to worry all of the time.

It crippled me, deformed me, wore me away

until there was nothing left.

I wasn’t pretty enough, I was fat, I was stupid

I was the thing on the shelf you settled for marked down to clearance.


The truth is

that person is gone

I haunt her bones

leave her flowers

because no one else does.


The truth is

this clock in my chest

doesn’t mark time for you or her or him.


It’s mine now.

Each minute

Carved into my bones

with determination.