It didn’t stop the cold aching, slithering, curling its way around my arms, squeezing to expose a vain, to show that I was still living. …
Graveyard by Z’monii G. Davis
I’m built upon the bones of (Their bones were never meant to slave away; hours on end, feet swelling on-call, arthritis in their knuckles that …
The Words by Z’monii G. Davis
This voice is hoarse from overuse, lips chapped from the cool silences that greet bruises from the war. At first in our time together you’d …