Tag Archives: Samantha Friskey

my mother asked what you look like

washington’s wooden teeth preserved well, well-worshipped colonial architecture built, sturdy, brown sweat beads on warm hues southern august * stretch of spoon sunday’s bowl of cereal grain doused in milk the taste of reliability coupled with a cup of citrus … Continue reading

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Dying People

Trying to hear some sort of noise, I squeak my dirty sneakers back and forth on the puke green floor. It’s ruining my shoes, but I can’t stand being consumed by the silence anymore. I’m sick of it. I want … Continue reading

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