dark romance
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Eventually, loving them begins to require something crueler than staying. You let them go. You stand at a distance and watch them dance with their devil, recognizing the steps because you watched them practice for years. There is a hollowness behind their eyes that you once tried desperately to reach. You stop trying. Not because…
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The woman in Jackson Square told me I had brought someone with me. I smiled. Of course I had. He had been with me for years. New Orleans was sweating through midnight, all perfume and rot beneath the balconies. Rain still glistened between the bricks. Somewhere down Chartres Street, a trumpet was playing something slow…
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Everybody is willing to hate you until they need you again by then the relationship has changed. Not ended. Changed. There is a difference. Endings have funerals. Flowers. Black dresses. Dirt thrown over something everyone has agreed is dead. Change is crueler. Change leaves the body sitting at the dinner table. It lets the conversation…
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They did not notice the moment she learned how to take. That is always how it begins. For years she was a vessel. A quiet thing. A body that absorbed moods the way stone absorbs heat. People leaned into her presence and left lighter, never asking where the weight went. They mistook her stillness for…
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They say words mean something or nothing at all. In the old wing of the mind, where curtains never quite let daylight in, those words gather like dust and like prayer. They could be true, false, or the careful lies someone tells themselves to make a wound less loud. In that place she lived—always moving,…
