Unwritten
Even now, on the quivering edge of winter solstice, the nights are not dark enough to shroud or obscure his mania of picking at scabs of every promise unkept. Even […]
Author Archives: Björn Rudberg (brudberg)
Dark days and darker nights
The serpent moon drowns in the words, whispered too hushed to be heard; she dies in the shadows of ink from the pen he had drained; while tying his pains […]
Hollow self
The hollow in your pillow, is a void still warm, an echo of the dreams we shared but split in two. You only saw yourself, while the only voice I […]
Losing to darkness
She picked pomegranates warm from the sun. The stains on her gown, like blood on the bed sheets, have dried. She walked on the glass we had broken. Blood-let and […]
Widowmaker
Billy Bold is on a mission, crossing the desert on his horse with no name. For two days the range of mountains had sometimes been floating closer, sometimes heat-hazed it […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 