can't promise what you want.i think we can make this work.
i think we can too.
but you have to promise me something.
promise me youll never leave the hand soap empty. promise me that when you see the faucet accidently leaking on the counter, youll take a towel and mop it up instead of just shrugging and walking away. promise me you wont leave your jeans rumpled in the hall because they didnt make it all the way into the room.
i cant lie, i cant promise that. but i will promise to never leave your hands empty. i will promise that when your bad day has leaked all over your cheeks, ill take my lips and wipe it away. and i promise that ill never leave your feelings rumpled outside a locked bedroom door.
i can compromise with that.
and can you promise me something?
ill certainly try.
promise me you wont drag me into some
barefoot in the rainit's too cold to speak into payphones without trembling. it's one of those nights when the whole world seems to be the colour of smoke. I am screaming even though I know nobody will hear me. I press my face against the window glass and it's cold enough to feel exposed, but not cold enough to want to stop.barefoot in the rain5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
it's like the r-rated movie I watched when I was ten years old. I wanted to scream but my own swollen fingers were covering my mouth. now I am pushing two fingers into my mouth like the one time I pressed my palm into the shower drain. I wanted to be sucked in. I wanted to fall out. I wanted to be in a place where it was raining all the time.
time may have made me bonier, but I'm still sitting here with my fingers against the window of the telephone booth, and there's a boy standing out in the rain, but he looks happy. it's been so cold for so long that I now almost enjoy it because I like knowing that I could leave but that I never actually do.
he's the ghost I never should have even
the fear of falling.i'm living my life with fear bubbling up my throat.the fear of falling.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
i'm guarding my heart with iron lace and gritted teeth because even the prospect of getting burned is enough to leave me on the porch. i'm trembling like autumn leaves, my spine cracking like an age-worn book, eroding at a hundred words a minute into a pile of rubble that is getting lost in the wind. i'm putting my toe in the water and easing around the edge, keeping my back to the wall and running like hell when i reach the exit.
because i'm pavlov's dog and when that bell strikes, i'm already diving for cover. because your eyes look like an earthquake and i only know one surefire way to avoid falling down the fault line. i can't get hurt if i never play the game, i can't get scarred if i never approach the flame. i'm tasting the arsenic with the tip of my tongue but i'm not able to brave downing the entire bottle. because i've been down this road before and left bloody footprints on my staggering way home. i've been at this cross po
i think i might need you.stop.i think i might need you.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
i need you to put down the pencil and listen to me for a second. i need you to pause your breath and tune to my frequency. because im throwing my heart on the airwaves and i need you to be alive to hear it. i need you to follow my words even when theyre stumbling, tripping, falling on their face.
this is just going to take a second. i promise.
i think you should know that when i woke up today i was tangled in morning breath and your whispers. i think you should know that im dreaming with swollen lips and bleeding cheeks because i keep biting down to stop myself from saying whats on my mind. i think you should know my mouth is betraying me and when i brush it off, what i mean is, please, for the love of everything, know that i am terrified.
and, i think you should know, despite the fact that i am trembling with needs, i dont want it. i dont want to count down the seconds and drag out my day. i dont want to have to constantly dislodge my he
i trust you to know.if i could crack my ribs apart at the sternum, id let you dip your fingers beneath the bleached bones.i trust you to know.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
there isnt anyone else id trust enough to not be impatient. there isnt anyone else id trust to not simply cut through the brittle, snarled vines encasing my heart. but i trust you. i trust you to see that the vines need to be unwound layer by layer. i trust you to see that to cut to the quick would only bleed me out. i trust you to know that i cant bear to stain the carpet yet again.
i trust you to see that the thorns are embedded deep, the insecurities tangled with the nervous laughs, that im biting my lip to keep it from trembling, that my palms are bird wings fluttering around my throat to keep the oxygen flowing.
i trust you to see.
and if i balk, if i run terrified back into the thicket, i trust you to follow me quietly, not burying a bullet in my flank, but luring me out with open hands and gentle eyes.
oh, because cant you see? i&
good thing we're fools.I think I might love you.good thing we're fools.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
I think thats a stupid thing to say, why would you say something like that?
Because when you look at me my toes curl and my stomach flutters.
Is that a quote from a book?
No. I dont think so. I dont know. It all gets a little mixed up sometimes.
So you love me like they love in books.
Question or statement?
Question, then. And, yes. I love you like Scarlett loves Rhett, like Elizabeth loves Mr. Darcy, like-
Stop, just stop. Dont love me like that. What happens after the last page?
We continue on loving like happily-ever-forever.
No, wed drop off, we'd end. Love isnt static, it doesnt continue in a flat line. Who can carry the same tune for years? We rise, we fall, we bump arms and step on each others toes. Ill annoy you because I cant stand going to Chr
it's written in your veins.it's twelve to midnight when i frown with my eyes, forty-eight past sanity when i smile with my lips. as i'm standing in the ocean, waist-deep in murky thoughts, toes dug in coral i arch my neck and watch the stars burn like hellfire. i imagine that they burn in me too, that somewhere buried behind my lungs or stuck between my ribs, stars are smoldering. i splay my hands on my chest and i can feel the heat, each individual fire warming my palms until the milky way starts melting through my pores. the galaxies are filtering through my skin, strewn across the top of constellation-water and in comet-tail whispers they say:it's written in your veins.5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"i'd like to save you, i'd like to think i could, but my breath's busy breaking down the ozone layer
and my darling, my dear, i'm sorry but you're just going to have to wait."
my lungs are turning inside out and my spine is an aging willow that's falling to meet the aquatic embrace. i imagine life is a metaphor and i'm just a run-down adjective trying to keep up.
look, she's crying over him.five years ago--look, she's crying over him.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
we were all elbows and sheltered self-esteems. we werent noticing each other except for bumping knees and walking into each other when walking around corners. we were nameless faces in the middle of the dance floor and hesitant hands touching. i was teaching you how to move gawky feet and a stiff spine, you were hitched-laughter fogging over my ear. we were wide eyes and gangly legs and fast music. we were bubble-gum-breath and coca-cola-fingers, breaking apart like nervous colts at the end of the song.
and all the parents said: look, how sweet, shes his first dance.
two years ago--
we were all chewed-on-lips and wrung-together fingers. we were orbiting alone until we crashed blindly together. we were reintroducing with shaking hands and getting swung onto the dance floor with free-falling-breath. you were taller, faster, taking my old moves and spicing them with your own. you were flipping me over your arm and i was hovering my mo
i can fight gravity.do you really want to know how im feeling?i can fight gravity.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
im breathing his name across my pillow every night. im sleeping with trembling hands uncurled, wishing only for them to be held against his. my mouth is swollen from biting my lip, the words caged inside, moth-wings fluttering against the back of my throat.
im tearing apart dictionaries because none of them have the definition that describes this. im throwing the radio through the window because none of the music feels right. my teeth are on edge and im on a wire. im hanging three hundred feet over a giant x thatll bruise like hell when i swan dive towards it.
and im courting dreams that dont make sense, kicking them down the stairs in the morning and watching them crumple on the floor. because theyre only useful when theyre broken, feeble and silent.
im running as fast as i can with blistered feet. if i dont let this catch me then i can pretend it
gamble on me.hey boy,gamble on me.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
i think you should know that youre twisting my spine into knots and clogging up my arteries and the least you could do is give me a second of your time. i think you should give me a chance. you should know that you make my hands itch when you smile because i want to brush my thumb over your cheekbones. that my shoulders are trembling because i can imagine them resting against your chest, the idea of the warmth shotgunning straight to my nerves.
i think you should know youre making a relatively sane girl misplace her mind.
and i know youre so much more than youll ever imagine, that you are making me tangle words that once lived tucked safely in my pocket. that my fists are clenched against my legs and my mind is unwound around my skull and youre just tipping jaunty lips without a thought.
you see, ive been bottling this feeling but carbonation is beginning to shove against the cap. and i can feel it fizzing down the sides, leaking out my fing
second-chance renewal.i can't guarantee i'll be what you want.second-chance renewal.5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
you see, i can only offer you the remaining fractures of a weathered, storm-bruised heart in trembling palms; can only pour the relics into the crevices of your chest. i can only offer you the ruins: tangled and mismatched and soggy from salt-rain. can only give you the junk drawer, the elbows and broken bits no one wanted: the jealousy and anxiety and selfishness and impatience and insecurity. i can only give you these, wrapped in newspaper-covered cardboard boxes, no satin ribbon dressing them up as something they're not.
oh, and you deserve so much more! what i have left rotting isn't enough and it never will be, but, oh, i would give it to you if you asked. i would reach lacerated hands towards my marrow-locks and tear them apart. i'd give you the right combination of numbers and twists and turns so you might undo the not-so-treasure-chest. i'd let you take the choking corpse of my trust and let you try to reanimate it. i'd sell m
dare to dance the flame.i'm not the kind of girl you'll be able to forget about in a moment.dare to dance the flame.5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
i'm the kind that'll stick like a burr and breathe ice down your veins, but just wait because my lips will melt the frost in a moment. i'm the kind of girl that'll sneak into your system like nicotine so you'll keep asking for just a little bigger sip each time, just one more bottle, just one more drag [just one more, one more].
i'm a lie in the making and an addiction brewing in the spaces between your bones. i'm terribly atrocious and wonderfully divine and you'll hate me almost as much as you don't. i won't be part of your memory, because i'll flood it until i'm all that's there. i'll steal your lungs and give you sips of my own breath and promise you it's sweeter. i'll bite your bottom lip with laughing eyes and wipe away the blood precipitation with something that looks like sympathy but feels just like lust.
[you'll never know which, but you'll keep fighting because you're dying to know.]
i'm a storm that
lend me your heart.turn off the lights in your silver-threaded heart and open your eyes. feel your way through the darkness and ease around the sharp corners of my insecurity. be careful, step lightly, don't bruise yourself on my doubts. if you fall to your knees, just keep crawling forward. don't stop, be brave, i need you close enough to hear my whisper.lend me your heart.5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
i need another soul in the dark to hear these confessions.
i'm sitting in the middle of the ocean, choking on the reflection of the stars, but i think i'm starting to hear the echo of your pulse. i think i can hear the shallow crashing of your breath on the edge of your lips. so, shh, don't interrupt, because i'm starting now. don't shy from this tsunami of emotion or the callous edge of my well-used, wrung-dry heart. i promise, this won't take long.
i just need someone to hear the fears sending shockwaves down my vertebrae, the lonely terror throbbing in my palms every time they kiss in prayer. i need someone to know that i'm floating in flames, crash
dying to feel alive.we are the living.dying to feel alive.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
we are the revolutionaries finding adventures on the tip of our frost-bitten noses, the pirates braving the raging ocean, the radicals setting our veins on fire. we are the buccaneers stealing hearts and leaving names behind, the insurgents tearing apart continents and draining the mighty rivers.
we are the rebels causing riots in the middle of the streets, the mutineers screaming songs at the top of our lungs, the bandits writing poems in all caps or with none at all. we are the ones making rules just to break them, slashing paint across canvases and calling the wounds art, tearing up roses to plant wildflowers because we can't stand to see beauty so trimmed and refined.
we are the ones who believe in beauty that's raw and half-ugly, that's stumbling with scraped-up knees and chapped lips. we are the ones who believe in art that's vulnerable and shaken, that's hoarse and gritty, that's not polished and kept in a vault but covered in sand and strewn across foggy beac
i never liked life until.i never liked numbers until i watched you do math.i never liked life until.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
and somehow between the derivatives and the way you made the calculations dance, i fell in love with the logical precision of how they added up, the poetry you weaved on graphs with a pencil behind your ear and a slow smile curling your lips. and when i sat on your lap, counted the kisses, multiplied the desire, divided the distance and subtracted the inhibitions, i decided i might be mathematically inclined after all.
i never liked roller coasters until you took me on one.
and somehow between the buckling down and the gripping your hand as the car shook forward, i fell in love with the stomach-dropping, jaw-aching beauty of letting go and finding yourself flying instead of falling. and when i looked over and saw your grin stretching your face and your quick laugh getting stolen by the wind, i decided that i might like losing control and free-falling after all.
i never liked the rain until you danced with me in it.
and somehow betw
if you keep getting under.i saw you today and said heyif you keep getting under.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
but what i meant was:
holyhell, youre beautiful. you look like sunshine trapped in mason jars and fireflies stuck in moonbeams. you have a smile that punches straight to the spinal cord, did you know that? i just spent the last five seconds rebooting my heart, training my lungs how to breathe again. exhale, inhale. it should be simple but youve snarled it all in a giant mess. im unwinding the ball of yarn into a straight jacket and youre as unaffected as the sea. id say im a boat but im hardly as sturdy. im a feather. its almost funny how little a chance i have of staying afloat. im soaked and matted and sinking into the undertow. and youre just churning on and on and on.
i saw you today and said how have you been?
but what i meant was:
have you lost as much sleep as i have? ive spent 3256 hours trying to piece together the exact curves that m
i'm choking.i am sitting with smoking nerves andi'm choking.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
frayed circuit wires, everything i don't
know knotting together for me to choke
if there is a door, i can't find it.
if there is an answer, i'm unaware.
instead i am falling to my knees and
crawling under the smoke, eyes watering
and knuckles bleeding. no closer to the end
than when i had begun.
if i had the courage, i'd crack open your ribs
and get the answer for myself. if i was brave,
i'd simply reach over and pinch the truth from
or i'd just tie my heart to the railroad tracks
and wait for you to save it. wait for you
to cradle it and whisper that the time for
pinched nerves and scraped knees is over.
but i am confused and cowardly, clutching
my chest, palms feebly protecting the only
thing i have left to defend. the only thing i
have left worth guarding.
and the thing that scares me most is not that
you might hurt me. it's not that i might end
up with a scar or a burn or a weeping laceration.
the thing that has me trembling wit
rabbit heart, in headlights"so, tell me something about you." he whispered into my earrabbit heart, in headlights5 years ago in Post-Teen (Mature) More Like This
tracing my body with his lips instead of chalk, on a bed instead of pavement
my life is an experiment of bad choices and regrets."
"would you say i'm one?"
"no, you definitely are not."
and we moved against each other. believing this wasn't a
m i s t a k e
regret number one,
i breathed into telephones
and left you brokenwhispers in phrases like, i love you
i was too preoccupied with six vowels and two consonants to sputter out ten digits, redialing you to my heart - a nine zero five (i love you too) eight two seven (inhale and exhale) three nine two four (mistaking, that you knew it already) but you didn't.
you told me that my number had been unintentionally erased from your arm with soap and water
(but i had a hunch it was really a bar of dispassion and a running tap of immorality)
regret number t
set the broken bones.call me a fool.set the broken bones.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
i won't sew your mouth closed, i won't block your path. call me heartless and i'll split open my chest to show you what's pulsing, what's bruised and lacerated and aching like hell but still alive. i'll show you my scars and my burns, i'll turn my neck and show you the jagged slice where i was foolish enough to trust a knife against my throat.
call me weak.
i won't rage against the accusation, i won't deny with vigorous defiance. i'll sit and absorb each and every slur because i know you'll never understand. i'll take the wicked slices and soak them in, my skin cut open and bare. i'll let you paint me into a corner and i won't try to leave. i'll open my hands and stand with my palms facing the sun. i'll sigh and stand with my ribs dropping slowly one by one to my feet.
call me broken.
i won't shake my head, i won't cut off the insults. i'll just lift my shirt and show you where i've staunched the blood. i'll show you the homemade stitches, the places where circumstance
love like smoke.sometimes,love like smoke.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
if you close
you can hear
the sound of
than not, it's a
the timid release
of air into the
but if you
listen hard, you
can still catch
the fluttering of
and dead end
on the tip of
it sounds just
like the pitterpatter
of the ocean's tears,
like salty wishes
apart in the haste
of the wind.
it's the sound of chalk
paintings being chased
away by the rain,
of lost children running
after smoke silhouettes,
of individual fingers
weaving together to
pretend they feel whole.
who said love was beautiful.this is not what you're expecting.who said love was beautiful.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
i'm not going to write about the first time we kissed or the first time you whispered something beautiful into my clavicle or the first time we held hands and i swore that the earth shifted under my shoes. i'm not going to write about the first hello or the first goodbye or the first moonrise i watched reflected in your irises.
i'm not going to write about how your eyelashes are spidersilk and your mouth is a song and how when i was weaving the colors of your eyes into a sunset i got lost in the middle. i'm not going to write about how your fingers pluck symphonies above steaming mugs of tea and how looking you in the face is like holding my breath underwater.
i'm not going to write about that.
instead, i am going to write about the first time you dragged your hands through your hair and i noticed that your knuckles were scarred from too many fights and how i wasn't surprised in the slightest. i'm going to write about the time we stood in the kitchen
hearts are for rebuilding_ci.hearts are for rebuilding_c5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
when i remember you, i remember the way you laughed when i mixed up teaspoons and tablespoons.
i remember the way you refused to eat the cake because you said it was too salty and the way i stood crying over the sink when i shoved it down the disposal. i remember how you left me standing in the middle of the floured, sugared, baked-on-mess kitchen to finish the tivo-game, patting me on the back and saying nice try.
it was when i was wiping my tears with the back of my hand that i best remember holding my heart close, telling it nice try. maybe next time wed fall in love with someone who saw us when they looked, who cared about stomping all over the most vulnerable of spots.
when i remember you, i remember crashing out of love.
i know it was bittersweet, but i cant remember anything but the burn.
and now i am thinking maybe the cake was too salty. maybe my hands shook when i was making it because you were standing behind me, your laureate finge
i'm sorry.i am sorry if i am not what you expected.i'm sorry.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
i am sorry if i am not slender or cunning or sticking to the schedule or falling into the precision of appointments and the rules of poetry. i am sorry if i am wringing my fingers dry and running out of paper and bleeding ink through my eyelids. i am sorry if i am butchering words and stitching their bleeding pieces into something i can lie and call beautiful. i am sorry that i cant stick to your grammar, your syntax, your expectations, your rules. i am sorry, i tried.
i cant help that i am running barefoot through the grocery store because i forgot my shoes or that i am driving through the fast food drive-through without buying a thing because it at least feels like im driving somewhere. i cant help that i am forgetting to bring you home your medication and sleeping with my back against the grass and tying your requests together to knit a scarf to choke myself with. i cant help it.
i wish i was different. i wish i
find me in the hidden life.i have this feeling in my bones that some call weakness and other call fire.find me in the hidden life.4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
it's a driving need and a crippling desire, and it wakes me in the middle of the night with cramping calves and feet running among cotton though they reach nothing but the great beyond of the side of the bed. it's a burning that pushes me into the middle of rainstorms to dance among the cracking weather kissing the earth, and it's a spark lit under the gasoline pooled under my heart. some call me crazy and others call me sane, but if you look for me in the heart of winter, you will often find me curled under the dead oak touching the bark because i like the way life looks when it's hidden.
you'll often find me like this, looking for hidden life and concealed light. sometimes, i will search for under the frozen wrinkles and concrete-frowns of the lonely, and other times i will seek it in the ocean before the storm. i will hunt under the foliage like a hungry wolf, and i will howl at the canopy as i track it dow
coughing coloursi used to think alexis was beautiful in every way, back when we went to school. now though, i tell myself that he's beautiful in an artistic sort of way. the sort of artistic that makes you picture everything as a black-and-white photo and the kind of artistic that sparks words somewhere inside you. he calls himself a movie-maker now, but his friends call him alex. i like to call him a story.coughing colours5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
when we were maybe fifteen, alexis told me he wanted to go to the beach. it was cold, dark and raining outside, but i agreed anyway. i walked through the late night light and met him at his front gate. we held hands, shaking and biting our lips. we weren't talking but i don't think we had to. we sat on the beach and i counted the seconds in between the flashes of light from across the bay. he had his arm around my waist and i can't remember what we said, but i remember that we were happy. cold, wet and shaking but in love and happy.
when we went to school he used to tell me about how he had ev