darkaslay

Comment: Those who don't want Lifetime Christmas cheesy-ness that is Spashley, I suggest you do not read this. You'll barf from it. I almost did. -------------------------------------- Spencer sways her hips gently to “Holly Jolly Christmas”, careful not to move too much. She is standing on a ladder of very flimsy support and she would hate to topple over the tree. Or break a bone.   “Next.” Spencer stands for a moment looking at the tree in admiration with her hand sticking out behind her. She thinks she sees a dead bulb in the furrow of green needles but it is only a branch. She frowns when nothing is put

Ashley never has anything nutritious, let alone edible, in her house. So she is quite surprised when she finds a solitary peach in her otherwise empty fridge. She thinks it is Kyla’s doing. She brings it to Spencer, who asked for something, anything to eat even though Ashley warned her that the only thing she has that resembles food is month old Chinese. Nevertheless, she went to search anyways because she is not strong enough to fight the cuteness of Spencer’s pout. Spencer is equally shocked when Ashley offers the fruit, but happily accepts. Through the cover of her sunglasses, she watches intently as Spencer bites into the ripe

If I close my eyes long enough I can still hear the cars and playful chatter of the neighborhood kids. I’d watch them catch snails and bugs in clear jars, poking a few holes, so the bugs could breathe, on the lids. If I close my eyes long enough I can still feel the cold of the brick steps on the winter days. Huddled close, watching parents and houses grow old, giggles and whispered promises: it’ll always be this way. If I close my eyes long enough I can still feel the fall the snatch from someone from behind. As they rip me away from it all and with sad smiles they say it’s finally time to grow up.

He was her eraser, in those desperate times Moping up the floor, deleting her foolish crimes That were committed each night by routine Only to be washed away; innocent, beautiful, clean. She thought he'd be sick of it by now, that his bucket on wheels would eventually stop. Yet, he surprised her by every returning, And she attracted him by her nightly abusing. She sighed, trying to create words to speak, to explain the reason why she was so utterly weak. The words never came though, but in their silence more words would be spoken than they could ever know. She was tragedy, a wreck that accidentally found him, while he was tryi

“Can you turn it up?” Ashley lazily lifted her right hand from her stomach and pointed it to her stereo on the floor. She thumbed the ‘+’ button, raising the volume a few decibels. She plopped her hand back on her bare midriff and used her ring and pinky finger to scratch a patch of skin above her belly button while still holding the remote. She mouthed the words of the current song, her eyelids slowly drifting downwards. There was something uncomfortable about laying on your back with both legs flat on the bed. She slid her foot towards herself against the bedspread, her knee raising into the air. Spencer looked at Ashl

She counted the precise amount of seconds and minutes it took her to bring down her shields. She knew her defenses were being slowly penetrated but she let them pass with a blind eye and felt that maybe, finally, she could trust this person, that she could let someone into her life. She had nothing to show for her prolonged wait unless you count the nights awake, the time spent to formulate unspoken words, the thoughts and feelings pent up never to be released. She couldn't decide whether she deserved this, that this was just another cruel joke being played and someone, somewhere, was hysterically laughing. Or whether this truly was unfair an

You want something loud, obnoxious; something you can brag about. I can give you something silent, discreet; something that will grow from the other's doubt. We hide behind locked doors and closed curtains; touching and teasing to find lost purposes. You swear if love was real, you wouldn't be here with me. You're right, but there's something keeping us here; a desire heeding to a whispered plea. You'll walk away more guilty and disgusted than ever, but you'll still come back to me each night like a broken record. It'll play the same song like yesterday night's and all the nights before that, before we realize our duet is overplayed. I'