Staff Content
This page features creative pieces of prose and poetry written by The Eckleburg Project’s very own staff writers. Keep an eye out for new content weekly!
I untangle myself from my sheets,
miraculously,
like a spider caught in its own cobweb
refusing to let it end this way.
There’s a half-formed drawing
of someone I used to feel something for
(or still feel something for,
why commit to a binary yes/no
when it can be complicated)
surrounded by a blank expanse,
I should have practiced drowning.
My love, it was as though I froze
from the outside in, and inside still
tumbling, still mumbling,
yes, something out of a book.
on the last of the seventeen and a half days
we had of spring (you went to france, I think,
or switzerland), on that last afternoon,
you missed your flight and took it as a sign.
Broken picture frames
Still on display,
They say I love you
In fragmented ways
Quietly, loudly, tenderly,
In a world with you.
Pink-tipped curls of gold sit on your shoulders,
curled up in a scarf and wearing a beanie.
You're sitting across from me,
him to your left and her to your right.
When I was a kid, my dad taught me that getting angry could distract you from pain.
A little curse word when you fell, even if your body wasn’t injured, just in case.
A swing at someone when they annoyed me wouldn’t be too bad,
if they were hurt, they could swing back.
The sky is falling,
It’s happening now on a rock beach
A thick mist has kidnapped the sun
Turquoise clouds are circling around me
All I could see were two freckles on your neck
Arranged an inch apart like empty eyes
Or mouths
Black and gaping.
Lightning in a bottle, they used to call him
The little boy wonder who could brave the deadliest storm
most times: two horizontal buttresses,
arched and angled,
hanging above your heavy gaze and
sharpening it to a fine point to be hurled,
I am out of rhymes, I am out
Of poetic language, do not ask me to spin
Another gossamer-silver line from my tongue.
Sometimes I feel like the co-pilot in a falling plane
Meant to mindlessly soar across a barren plane
That was it, the end of the family’s true legacy
As they couldn’t prevent their fall deep into all of life’s entropy
I know when she heard the pitter-patter
of tiny feet she didn't expect to
Hurt quite so much
The sun has long since set,
Yet it is darker in my mind.
A swatch of midnight void.
I cannot recall the taste of light
Nor the touch of its fingers on my skin.