August 2012
1 post
I get so lonely so easily. I feel ghosts where no ghosts reside. Whispers of an empty room kiss my naked skin where I wish your lips would rest, so warm, so honest. But where a kiss is pure and sweet, as a child imagining dreams, your words hold secrets I cannot describe, I cannot accept. Your syllables are separate and dissemble the connection I was so hoping for. The pressure where it was...
June 2012
1 post
Each swift and undulating movement makes you dizzy with this sort of pleasing sickness that you’d rather not shake.
April 2012
15 posts
It’s the certainty in unhappiness that keeps me coming back.
I don’t think you know the way I search through your life, reading into letters even if they’re blank. Scanning every page to see if you’re a liar. Hoping with all I have that you’re a fucking saint. My stomach has jumped so far in my throat, I’m just chewing on the bile. Look what I have become each day and every night.
Life is bright for the living; death is bright for the dead.
Pass a thought my way if any a thought you have.
You didn’t want me to leave. You were begging me with your eyes and language. A language I hadn’t heard before. It felt like betrayal, but it was comfort like fire. Cool fire that warms your feet when your toes freeze all up. You kept my feet warm in two ways, but I couldn’t help yearning for the missing piece. I feel empty and no language or heat from your frame will fill the void cutting deep...
I’m between houses, between feelings, between lies.
The last thing I remember from last night is saying something I cannot remember. I wanted to hear your voice soften and decay. To hear your tongue move and push the words out from your lips. I don’t know if you actually said anything at all. I don’t remember if it was just a dream, but I do recall one small detail. One anecdote that was as tangible as anything. I slid my hand under your fuzzy...
If you don’t occupy my mind, it wanders straight into the ground. Even still, sometimes it happens anyway. I will sit alone here under sheets that do not breathe, searching for anything to mimic a presence or a voice. My insides sink as they bloat and swell, with pressure so nauseating, it makes lumps in my throat. Fingertips get colder and colder, as ice. No heat from stretched skin to melt the...
Unrecognizable everything.
Your shoulders gave way and my back arched and decayed. Thoughts aren’t actions, you know. Remind me to apologize anyway.
Seconds are hours. Hours are weeks. Weeks are years.
Oh my fucking God, my life's the ticking clock
hanging over your television that whispers while I try to sleep. You need me, and I can see. I can’t begin to explain what’s bothering me. These are secrets that I keep. I am lost, trapped, and weak. Don’t ever listen intently. Don’t watch while I fabricate sleep.
I let the smoke ease from my lungs, my lips. You push yours out in streams like you’ve been doing this for years.
The rain poured all over my head, washing away what happened tonight. Washing away my sins, my fears, my regrets. All that has occured is very much my fault, but I’ll never work to change it. That’s why I leave that to this storm overhead. I slide the patio door to the side, the bell rings out into your dark house. The old, the young, the baby, sleeping soundly in warm sheets. I step one foot...
Can’t we quit this silent banter, back and forth like smoke signals? We both know our letters go straight into our hands. They never even touch the mailbox. I’m listening, I’m all ears.
April 2011
1 post
You pick me apart. That’s just it. You pull on my skin until you can see underneath because that’s what you like. My naked, pearly bones. My beating, bloody heart. My darkening lungs that barely breathe. You love me despite my ugly outsides, or the outsides I can’t find beautiful. I could hear you becoming anxious under your clothes once, and I knew you’d pick at the edges of mine. Your fingers...
March 2011
7 posts
Even with the obvious lack of love for one another, we still held onto each other through the night. It’s too cold to let go. We’re too sad to be left alone. You talked with your eyes closed; I talked with my eyes open. I was looking at you while you couldn’t tell. Your mouth moved in a slow, natural way while you talked about nothing important, yet it was important to me. I started to move to...
She means something, but closer to nothing, my dear.
I tried, for a moment, to feel that center of light buried in your chest. I know it’s in there and you know it’s in there too. A soul of souls; God, I could feel it. And isn’t it funny, trying to find something that I barely believe in? Combing through your skin and bones, I tried to keep myself together.
My hand touched your hand and we became what we’ve been searching to become.
Ourselves.
I don’t know why I hide my hands inside my pockets. They stare unblinkingly at these bony fingers.
We’re not counterparts; we’re just thrown together.
Did you press your teeth into me to leave these marks for memory?
And still I hear no reply from your scratching throat. You twist your hands together with such anxiety while you look in other directions. It’s such a gift when you look into my eyes. Your voice is trailing through my ears and these pictures reel inside my skull. It’s not that I’m not listening, dear, it’s...
I pushed my pants off from around my ankles, and as the cool relief whispered on the front and back of my legs, I said “Thank God that you’re the only thing that’s mine. Keep me next to you.” And you smiled.
February 2011
9 posts
A glint in your eye, it’s fire. Your fingers roll across my skin, just as the smoke from your lungs or the lies through your teeth. I am freezing. You kiss the corners of my slightly parted lips and press hard into my mouth as I go to speak. Thank you. I don’t want to speak. You brush your cheek against mine and whisper something unrecognizable in my ear. You press up my back so...
I don’t need much. I’ll just curl up in your bed or on your couch. I’m sorry for my mistakes, past present and future. I love you, and through our differences, that will never change. You’re my family. Let me be your family in return.
You’re my only friend, because I don’t have a voice anymore.
I like to blink away that sunlight and think of what it means to me.
It means so much.
My fingers are ripped and bloodied and my eyes are dry.
There are shadows under my skin where my soul used to be, if my soul used to be.
Maybe there really is something wrong, or maybe I made it up on my own.
Being loved and being held in...
I hid myself inside the promises made. I tucked myself away in words that were said. I planted myself under what was created here and now I’ve lost a piece of who I once was.
I don’t know who I am anymore.
And I’m running on borrowed time it seems.
The Two of You. (Sunrise)
The night was young when we first started out. We walked out into the world and I don’t recall us ever being silent. The sidewalk crunched under our feet and you seemed to drink in the sound. I did too, if you hadn’t noticed. The sun was already down, with only little rays still showing in the distance. You talked and talked and talked and I half heard all the words because of the acute...
The Two of You.
You felt like a little child to me, all clinging to my side like you were. I was fast asleep and you woke me, scooting as close as you could, putting your head to my chest. The soft pitter-patter of our breath mixed together in silence. Unnoticeable by the rest of the world, but very alive in that small, close room. I remember and I know you do too, that morning we let go. That morning you...
I can only hope that you will find something you like within my shaking frame.
I saw the glimmer in the ground, all shining and calling my name. I swear, in my left or right eye, I don’t know which, I saw it move and sway. The voices were begging, beckoning to me, and I listened with burning ears. They wanted me to leave. ‘Shed your things! Your clothes! Your skin!’, but that’s what they lock you up for, you know, and so, I continued walking. I continued my attempt to think...
And every time
she’s surrounded by water, she presses to the ground to open it.
Just open it.
And sink lovingly into the black
or the white
or the blue .
And taste and breathe and melt.
Drowning is safety to her.
Suffocation is open air.
And her fingertips mix with the solid.
Caressing and feeling.
And she falls.
She falls.
