"Pseudocyesis" working titlePseudocyesis"Pseudocyesis" working title by ~aroura121
The kitchen clock set into the stove top was digital, but it had cracked in the left corner so that the hour was indeterminable. The the L.E.D. minutes read :47. Marco had been sitting at the table clutching a mug of coffee in his tight fist for the past several hours, stirring absentmindedly with a plastic fork.
The funeral was to be held today, in just a few short hours. Her parents had organized it without consulting him. They'd never approved of him anyways.
Shortly after her announcement all those weeks ago, he'd envisioned finally being accepted into the family, a real son in law, father of their first grandchild. Then he'd realized he'd have no need- he would have his own family- himself a dad, she a mother, of some beautiful child. He'd wondered who it would look more like, telling her that he hoped it would have her doll-like features.
She had first told him in tears, weeks ago, stammering out an only just comprehensible story about initial suspicions a
Unmasked WIPWhy hide behind your sequin mask, pretty boy?Unmasked WIP by ~aroura121
Pretty liar with your painted lips.
You cannot hide behind your shattered smile,
It can't protect you from their tainted grips.
Throw off your veil, pretty painted boy,
lace never has kept back the stares,
Nor disguised your reputation,
dirty hands, dirty lips, backdoor affairs.
But hide your eyes, pretty liar, dirty boy
They kill us with corrupted poison
two blades slip through your painted lies
that you liberate and us imprison.