Mortricia > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

Words, like something grimy, over-use turns dull what's shiny. So, take care in piling letters for fear of words that never better.

What it feels like.

A poem based around the proverb, "In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man was king."

All it is.

Fear and acceptance, the troubled twosome.

..Phantom socks and phantom clocks, oh no!

The disease in me is cultured Manifested, hungry vulture Nothing wrong but everything Empty lungs can't start to sing Thoughts that scrape my rust..

The title covers it well enough.

Zombie oxymoron?

The dolls are watching me.