Isaac Marion
Isaac Marion
Isaac Marion is an American writer. He is best known as the best-selling author of the "zombie romance" novel Warm Bodies...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionWriter
CountryUnited States of America
fun
It was fun, but it's over now. This is how things go.
running blood lovers
How do I appear unthreatening when her lover's blood is running down my chin?
echoes pulse palms
In my palm I can feel the echo of her pulse, standing in for the absense of mine.
tired growing earth
A month ago there was nothing on Earth I missed, enjoyed, or longed for. I knew I could lose everything and not feel anything, and I rested easy in that knowledge. But I'm growing tired of easy things.
girl boys thinking
I know I'm not going to say good-bye. And if these staggering refugees want to help, if they think they see something bigger here than a boy chasing a girl, then they can help, and we'll see what happens when we say yes while the rigor mortis world screams no.
blame praise
No praise, no blame. Just so.
lust want and-love
We will cry and bleed and lust and love, and we will cure death. We will be the cure. Because we want it.
doors window staring
It’s sad to see them staring wistfully through the window when the door isn’t locked.
memories voice people
All the shitty stuff people do to themselves... it can all be the same thing, you know? Just a way to drown out your own voice. To kill your memories without having to kill yourself.
world panic horror
When the entire world is built on death and horror, when existence is a constant state of panic, it's hard to get worked up about any one thing. Specific fears have become irrelevant. We've replace them with a smothering blanket far worse.
long people gone
The world that birthed that story is long gone, all its people are dead, but it continues to touch the present and future because someone cared enough about that world to keep it. To put it in words. To remember it.
two littles frowning
Just... ate," M says, frowning at me a little. "Two days...ago." I grab my stomach again. "Feel empty. Feel... dead." He nods. "Marr...iage.
feelings world gaps
There is a chasm between me and the world outside of me. A gap so wide my feelings can't cross it. By the time my screams reach the other side, they have dwindled into groans.
hurt distance eye
I think for a minute. Watching my wife fade into the distance, I put a hand on my heart. "Dead." I wave a hand toward my wife. "Dead." My eyes drift toward the sky and lose their focus. "Want it...to hurt. But...doesn't." Julie looks at me like she's waiting for more, and I wonder if I've expressed anything at all with my halting, mumbled soliloquy. Are my words ever actually audible, or do they just echo in my head while people stare at me, waiting? I want to change my punctuation. I long for exclamation marks, but I'm drowning in ellipses.