Arnie Clay > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

ghost of ebony.

A Poem by Arnie Clay

Let the blood drip from my cold lipsAs I hang here outside your window frameDon’t turn your back on my corpseThe half rotted carcass that swin..

dear sandman.

A Poem by Arnie Clay

I’ve sunken just a bit lowerand my fingertips are bleeding from the effort to climb.And I’m shake shakeshaking at the wrists, clawingat ..

a musing mind.

A Poem by Arnie Clay

Can you see this lonesome hollows?Abandoned and hallowed by the yearsCan you see this decaying gallows?Reigned by justice and murder’s tearsCa..

and there was silence.

A Story by Arnie Clay

The water burned as it streamed down over me, leaving red trails of enflamed flesh down my back and shoulders and over my breasts. I closed my eyes ..

masochistic.

A Poem by Arnie Clay

you crawl inside me like a disease caving in my lungs, one breath at a time and the veins in my head begin to implode with the exploding stars di..

dimetapp and dramamine.

A Story by Arnie Clay

i wanted to write you a poem, but all i got were these ink stains. they remind me of my charcoal hands, but they're everlasting, at least, for a day..

even logic has its limits.

A Story by Arnie Clay

"Why would you want to destroy something so beautiful?" She turned to me with bonesaw eyes, dried with blood and rusted with sweat."Why would I not?..

and my shoulders hurt with the guilt.

A Story by Arnie Clay

Dredging up the past of black and white and faded photographs, the organ music sounding softly in the background, calling up the unbidden emotions t..

my night life.

A Story by Arnie Clay

If I could stop the sun from rising each morning it would be the greatest triumph of my downtrodden life. To walk within the day, I cower and hide w..

saved by the blood of sam.

A Story by Arnie Clay

Sam is a true love that never existed except in her little seven-year-old mind. He had a kickass voice, and yeah, she knew that word. Her older brot..