6 word stories (various authors)

“I feel profoundly sad and melancholic”

“I don’t have all the answers”

“Yes. Of course I have ghosts”

“Momentos from another era, left behind.”

“I can’t focus. There’s so much.”

“what did i get myself into”

“I wish I was never born”

“Long journeys take cause homesickness. Treatment.”

“i didn’t ask to be born”

“Some day the sun will die.”

“three words: evolution is a lie”

“This is my six word sentence”

“Rip my cuticles, blood at last”

“I think this is based off a challenge that was posed to Hemingway. He wrote: Baby shoes for sale. Never used.”

“Having hard time. Gonna try later”

“Garage closed. Engine on. Just breathe.”

“Oppressive heat sedates… gradient plum salivates.”

“I love costco, monster on sale”

“ah! oh, huh? um… meh. om”

“Time for my role, professional person”

“melt into the couch, Dogs pant”

“return from vacation, dog has cancer”

“my sister pregnant, now its gone”

“Grandpa dying, son reads story aloud.”

“No real people, only telegram cares.”

“Suffer by day, sweet Seroquel sleep”

“I lied to my psychiatrist… Again”

“Smear fingers in graphite, not blood”

“My mom is great, but insane”
“I wish my coworker would leave.

Get the fuck outta here bitch.

Your shift is over, so leave.

Stop finding ways to stalk Mark

You’re both taken, just go away.

Ba boom, i’ll see you later”
(six sentences at six words a piece)


“6 word stories” – by various authors

Orange Bottles

translucent orange bottles,
unmistakable rattle,
No one has to know
They will tell me I do not need them.

Internal suffering hidden behind socially acceptable facial expressions.
Tell them how many activities you did,
how little rest you got,
you want to appear strong.
The answer to “how are you?” Is always “good!”

Dulled senses. Silence more enjoyable than music. Pleasure is a distant memory.

If functionality continues, your thoughts are inconsequential.
push the boundaries of your mind until it is so uncomfortable you can hardly bear it.
But do it with a smile.
There! Now you are doing it right!

The fallacy of society: strength is someone who suffers, does not take the “easy” way out.

I hide. I do not let them see. My arms and legs leaden. A parched mouth and cracking lips tolerated.
Too great is the energy expenditure required to reach a glass of water .

Don’t take the pills! They say UV rays and endorphin release is the cure. Wouldn’t want them to know you needed more.

No longer able to mask the suffering with a smile, I do the polite thing of shielding myself from society.

Soothing thoughts of death come in flux,
harmless by virtue of depression’s immobility.

Apparently I once felt happiness, But looking at the masses of society
smiling at laughing babies, I wonder what it is to experience emotion

I bathe once in awhile because I am supposed to. Pretend to have a “real” illness, Sin of sloth, don’t let them see your indulgence

It’s about quantity of years, not quality. Suffer and live a long life, you are strong.

An hour is easily identified, when fog inexplicably lifts..

Electric waves to fingertips. hear more, see more, feel more, do more. Urgent creativity. make up for lost time.

Now we can shout about all the tasks completed with so little sleep.
amorously, joyfully, vibrantly, spiritually, sexually
manic laughter is contagious.

Heightened senses, fabric grating on skin, sounds are too loud, will someone please turn off that radio?

Nothing is simple.

Impulsivity takes over, suppression of urges is key to staying alive.
Imminent danger, don’t let them see.
With irritability Amorous feelings transform to disgust. Hatred.

I don’t want to die!
Kill yourself! Hang yourself! Jump off that bridge!
Suppress suppress
I don’t want to die!
Laterally, you know how to make the incision, I think there is a rope nearby
Suppress suppress
I don’t want to die!

These other emotions are cut up and labeled as separate diagnoses.
Suicidal obsession, pure O type OCD. Break me to bits, define me.

Safety is found in pills, off white, distinct rattle.

Ability to don socially acceptable smile with ease regained. Easy now.
They can’t understand that nothing is a void and all is like King Midas.
The pharmacy gives white bags to hide translucent orange bottles, it’s polite, because OCD has become a mockery, and Bipolar too big of a pill to swallow.