There are no Women in our House
There are no women in our house. Uncle Allen tells me that women burn kind of like alcohol but not in a good way. He says they burrow right into your stomach right into your core and make homes out of bone dust and old food and stay there. There are no women in our house. Grandpa Walt tells me that women sting with sharp nails and red lips they'll kiss you my boy, they'll kiss you and you'll fall into a pit full of ghosts and you'll feel like lighter fluid and your tears will smell like gasoline. There are no women in our house. There is no one to make our beds or cook our food or to clean up after us; we have a hoot but at night I hear them crying softly in their stained bedsheets. There are no women in our house.
Credits
fiction by
Iskandar Haggarty
@iskyhaggarty36
artwork by
Retna Ningtias C. Rehajeng
@oodega
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creators