Holysocks

Is her work in first or third person? It would be helpful to know because in first person the MC can just narrate what they're thinking and let you know ...

30/30! raw-hide wastelands they're preparing for war bucking up on a horse they don't know born for blood caught in the rip-tide of rotten teeth like blisters from the sand ...

29/30 do you have the time? a question I don't know the answer to do I? I ask glancing at the rusty hands going for another lap it occurred to ...

28/30 there's a spot- like the sea where you can float for years without knowing who you are or where your home is-- BUT that's too deep when we're talking ...

27/30 fake smiles let the eyes tell the truth on glossy paper I look like a monster squinting at the sun like it's hiding a dark secret from me say ...

26/30 shaken awake by guilt again seeing me in my bloomers like there's something wrong with bruises I don't know why I'm waiting for a jolt of energy when I ...

25/30 colours are the best sound they're louder than a roaring ocean and as quiet as a butterfly's breath they take the world and paint it in rainbows music notes ...

24/30 the kink in my neck is a reminder that when I stare at my toes for hours I'll forget the things that matter and sometimes I understand that I'll ...

23/30 counting down from Alaska we notice carving's on the windshield as if the wind could speak writing a love letter to us but we were astonished- and a tad ...

22/30 quietly she regrets the seconds spent binding bridges into highways a rope a day and tangled even so until they unravelled setting loose the fear of the sky falling ...

21/30 in her bed she's ignoring the buzz that's invading her ears- she's looking for something but she's never seen it before in a ship on the ocean she's beyond ...

20/30 tell us what it's like sleeping in a pocket where your dreams are doll-size a place you'll remember when the wall paper peeled back revealing scandalous thoughts you burry ...

19/30 the shield rams onto me I run to the sword wondering when it came to this- when what was my protection became harmful to the point where I embraced ...

18/30 as the sun partakes in her daily disappearing act the crickets sing and the toads are the base the last beams casting on the sullen lake you sit there ...

Where are our promised apples?