when i say it isn't personal.and if its cold in the middle of the night, you can trust me to burn the building down.
if the walls are too tall and the secrets too thick. if you cant breathe past the black souls twisted around ash-lungs then follow me. trust me to start a riot. because we are more than they can handle, because we are smoldering indecently, we are young and heroic and flawed and angry. because we are bleeding hands tearing down doors, we are throwing fists against impassive chests.
we are feeling too much while they arent feeling enough.
and you better believe me: were going to revolt.
and if they try to stop us, we will hurdle their pathetic attempts at blockades. if they try to put us in a box, well stick dynamite in their teeth and blow off the fucking roof. because we are unstoppable, untameable, uncontrollable. we are wildfires and tsunamis and twisters ripping through small town america.
we are clawing down cliff walls and demolishing forests. we are the re
gamble on me.hey boy,gamble on me.6 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
sinning tongues still confess.[one] i just hope that you know that you are beautiful.sinning tongues still confess.6 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
i hope when youre looking into the mirror and are
bemoaning pale cheeks and angled eyes that you know
these are the things that make you the most breathtaking.
and when the ones you trust turn their backs, realize that
they are the ones lacking: not you. i hope you know that
you are intelligent and compassionate and all together
lovely. you are every single thing that every single person
should aspire to be.
[two] i wish you knew how i would fold at the knees like
faded denim if you werent there to hold me up. i wish
i had the words to tell you that youre the one mirror i cant
stand to look at when my own lies are fogged back into my
lungs. youre my strength when im tired, youre my comfort
when im crying and swearing that im not enough, that ill
never be enough. you call me brave, but i know its only
because i managed to swallow and borrow your courage.
[three] we a
write me a story.If you ask, Ill spin you gossamer-words into the horizon.write me a story.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
Sit next to me and listen to the water gurgle, listen to the creek singing hymns along the bank, the wind humming around us as dusk begins to fall. Sit next to me and rest your eyes, lay down for a moment and let me find words to tuck around you like a blanket. Let me slip into your bloodstream and warm you from the inside out, smoothing the aches and chills out.
Hush, close your lips, let me find your story.
Dont stir when the nightingales begin to call, just relax your muscles one by one. Let my voice burn away the fever and try to find strength in the quiet. I know you are weary, but you dont have to walk much longer. I have a place for you, so stop a minute, put down the weight and breathe. Breathe in the remnants of the night, breathe until your spine is melting and the tension is gone. Breathe until the world has dissolved and all that is left is your pulse enfolding you.
Ill search all night long t
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.6 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&
and when i live.i am sleeping in the middle of wheat fields.and when i live.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
i am curled into the soil with the sun filtering through my eyelids and the warmth of the earth pressed against my hip. i am holding my stomach with gentle hands, lips parted to breathe in the sweet air. i am dreaming of feathers running down my spine and of blowing bubbles while running down sloping hills. i am dreaming of kisses at dawn and hands cradling my cheek and laughing over coffee with my best friend.
and when i wake, i am tranquil and serene and peaceful.
and when i wake, i am alive.
i am swimming in the belly of the ocean.
i am twisting in the clever hands of her currents, my hair roping around my waist and seashells trailing up my thigh. i am swallowing saltwater and rinsing out my lungs, letting my sins filter through my skin and disperse into the curling water. i am breathing through gills around my throat and letting my fingers paint symphonies in the seaweed. i am dancing with starbright scales and forgetting the weight of
i'm sorry.i am sorry if i am not what you expected.i'm sorry.6 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
it's not enough.i will never regret running into the freeway.it's not enough.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
if i am gasping for air, pressing my palms against my chest, holding myself together, you will never find me wishing i hadn't done it. if i am sticking my fingers in my sides to staunch the bleeding, limping down gravel roads, barefoot and wild-eyed, you will only see me grimace and smile. tell you it was a hell of a ride. tell you when that car collided with my kneecaps, i tasted heaven in the wind yanked from my lungs.
and you won't ever find me lamenting jumping into the fire.
if i am smoldering and smoking, licking charcoal-lips and spitting out ash, you will never once hear me whispering it would have been better if i hadn't. if i am beating out my own flames, stitching my own sides up, holding my own hand, you will only watch me grit my teeth and laugh. tell you that it was like having my bones dance. tell you that when the fire licked around my torso, i knew what it meant to be alive.
because i know, someday i'm going to find someone
i'm choking.i am sitting with smoking nerves andi'm choking.6 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
i think i might need you.stop.i think i might need you.6 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
the fear of falling.i'm living my life with fear bubbling up my throat.the fear of falling.6 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
we are a sunrise.we are no more than a softly whispered if.we are a sunrise.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
we are smoke rings in the dark, soap bubbles on the lip of the water. we are bright eyes and shy fingers touching through the veil of introductions. we are racing side by side down separate book aisles, not calling out to one another but comforted in the echo of each others' pulse. we are strangers who aren't strange to one another at all, promises scrawled in folded pieces of paper, slipped under door cracks in the middle of the night.
possibilities are glowing iridescent between us, eyes overbright as we dance circles around one another. we're shoved into rooms filtered with sundust, lips praying as palms, fingers caught into oil-dark curls and tracing faintly dimpled cheeks. futures are unwound on the spin of a syllable, one second breaking everything we thought we knew about how our lives would go.
whole existences are leaping forward from the shadows with the power of a freight train, knocking out everything we've ever known to be
i can't see the sky.i hate the word lonely.i can't see the sky.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
it dries out my mouth like i had tried to swallow tumbleweeds, it scratches the back of my throat like i'm trying to regurgitate memories from an empty stomach. it leaves me sitting in the middle of an empty room and wishing the ceiling would cave in because then at least i'd be able to watch the stars.
instead i'm just laying on top of the covers pretending to count them in the drywall and imagining what it would feel like to have your arm behind the curve in my neck. instead i'm closing my eyes and listening to the suction in my veins because i am hollow and caving in. i keep painting you with rich, lush adjectives, but you're just a cardboard pipe dream that falls flat and leaveleaveleaves me without air.
i keep spending my nights sketching your eyes on the ceiling, but i still can't see the moon.
and you know, i keep my hands busy during the day to ignore the faint shaking they do when i know they want to be holding yours. i keep my mouth talking to ignore t
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.
this might be foolish.forty-nine hours ago: we were pressing fingers together through frosted windowpanes, laughing at our reflections and sticking out tongues through frost-bitten teeth. we were gently whispering through the snow to kiss the glass, the intimacy of our own breath steaming down our throats never able to take the place of what we imagine itd be like to breathe each others carbon dioxide.this might be foolish.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
thirty-five hours ago: we were running down fields clutching dandelions between our fingers, throwing our heads back to expose our neck to the whipping wind and trusting it not cut the slender expanse of it. we were tumbling down the grassy knolls and landing in the middle of the wheat, in the middle of the cerulean pond, in the middle of danger, in the middle of something we didnt know how to tag and label.
twenty-three hours ago: we were diving into the belly of the sea and trying to filter out the saltwater with our tongues. we were curling up in coral and seaweed, an
i'm breathing without lungs.don't apologize. i can't breathe. i collapsed on the stairs at a quarter to two and i haven't found my feet yet. please help me up. please push me down. i think i'm letting my lungs collapse. i think i just spit up saltwater. is the carpet staining? i need you to grab my hand. i need you to hold my lungs together. i need you. i need you.i'm breathing without lungs.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
is it night yet? i can't see the stars. i can't feel the wind. my skin is numb and my eyes are on fire and i'm sitting in the middle of a room without windows and i can't breathe. why aren't you listening? can't you hear me? i'm choking on regrets. i'm choking on my spine. i'm coughing up alcohol from last night and i'm spitting out my teeth but i still can't breathe.
i need a prayer. i need a song. i need you to write a poem for me and read it out loud until i can't hear anything but your voice. i need to stop driving with my eyes closed. i need to stop pretending i have wings. i need you to close your eyes and pretend i know. pretend i don't need you
consider this just one more.i need you to stop needing me.consider this just one more.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
you don't know, but you're living a lie. you're closing your eyes and pretending i'm something i'm not. you're pretending i'm lovely and stable and precious. you're pretending i'm returning this kiss.
you're breathing down my neck and twisting my hair between your fingers, saying we could be something beautiful if i would just slow down. you're swearing we could be a sundust and milky way love story if i would just stop running away all the time.
you're calling me baby, you're calling me darling, you're trying to hold my hand and ignoring the fact that i'm shaking with anxiety. your salty lips keep misfiring and landing on my jaw, your greedy fingers keep tearing my coattails apart.
can't you see? i'm a mistake that you're trying to rearrange into something lyrical, a disaster that you're trying to pretend is miraculous. when really i'm anything but.
in reality i'm knocking down vases and ripping the mona lisa in half, i'm tripping down the stairs and cra
resurrected in the graveyard.sometimes, i think if i drive with the radio loud enough, i can drown my thoughts.resurrected in the graveyard.5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
i imagine them blue-faced and purple-lipped, clinging to the sharp edges of my imploding mind. i imagine them gasping for air bubbles and clawing at the walls, fingers going limp, feet twitching before they finally release and sink like stone to the mossy floor.
and in this screaming silence, i find peace. in the midst of the howling verse and raging chorus, i find my mind blank to the fury of the storm. i don't think about bleeding stitches or begging hearts. i don't think about drunken kisses with whiskey-fingers prying reality away. i can forget about burying the pain with raucous laughter, can forget about curling into my past with no desire to face my future any longer.
flying down the freeway, deaf and saltwater-blind, i can claw out a cave in the midst of the chaos and crawl inside the emptiness. i can crank the volume up and let my guard down, relax my white-knuckle grip on sanity, my fierce atte
instead of breathing.it's a quarter to three and twenty minutes past any hope for sleep tonight.instead of breathing.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
instead, i am singing to the walls and pulling the stars in to light up the corners in my room. instead, i am writing your name in cursive and whispering secrets in gaelic and pinning my heart to the ceiling because it reminds me that life is beautiful. instead, i am making lists of things i want to tell you, lists of a hundred and two different ways to breathe that still leave me breathless whenever you're around.
instead, i am thinking of things like:
how when you talk, you mold the air between your hands like you're painting a picture that only i can see. how when you listen, you go completely and absolutely still. how ice-blue eyes cut through whatever inhibitions hold me back. how lips curve in a way that beckon me out of hiding to wherever it is you are. how you can seamlessly switch the conversation from a discussion of the black-and-white greats to cowboy brawls. how calloused, scarred fingers can drum
dying to feel alive.we are the living.dying to feel alive.6 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
aurora's melody.sweet dawn-breath washes acrossaurora's melody.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
lily-lips, sweeps over curved necks
and beckons forth murmured hellos
over white-washed cotton linens
curtains flutter through sunshine's
pale fingers, breezes trailing down
exposed spines, wrapping gently
around tender newborn laughter
tangled and loose curls frame slack
faces, twisted sheets roping around
freckled limbs, hearts flowing slowly in
dreamy, languid waves in ocean-chests
mouths sink together for sunrise's
prayer, moving through the hallelujah
with breathless care, cheeks coming to
rest next to one another with a sigh
the world breathes deep, the world
exhales, constellations shift to welcome
two new lights in their midst, whispering
hello as they cradle love in starry palms
the beautiful edge of ugly_c"you know, we are made of ugly things."the beautiful edge of ugly_c5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
"yes, but have you not heard? ugly is the new beautiful. like the way you always seem to pry at my thoughts and know what i'm thinking; the way you make me talk when i really don't feel like parting my lips and lying to you. it's just like the cyanide and razor blades i keep in my medicine cabinet, waiting for the day when i master the definition of defeat."
"then we are the most beautiful thing in the world, because we are spending our days chewing on gunpowder and wilted roses. i spent ten minutes this morning carving your name on the inside of my thigh; somehow, replicating that pain makes me think of you. makes me think of the day when you broke my skin and told me you liked me better when i was coming apart at the seams. i never did tell you, but i've been falling apart ever since."
"i know you've been falling apart, because i've been picking up the pieces i find scattered around. it hurts me more than you would think, but i am
look, she's crying over him.five years ago--look, she's crying over him.6 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
we set the ship on fire.Youre crazy.we set the ship on fire.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
Most likely. Is that a problem?
I dont know yet. It depends what kind of crazy you are.
You havent figured that out yet?
Im still working on it. Want to give me a few hints?
No, not particularly.
Alright, duly noted: bitch-crazy isnt out of the running yet.
Arent you clever? I think bitch-crazy should be leading the pack.
Its fighting gypsy-crazy for the lead.
Yeah. The kind of crazy that keeps your feet moving even when youre sitting down. The crazy that explains why when I look in your eyes I dont see lakes, but wild oceans. The kind that would explain why youre ten miles ahead of everyone else with no intentions of slowing down.
Its because Im running away half the time.
Away from what? Me?
Maybe. From feeding someone my heart
late this october night.right now:late this october night.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
the train is bulleting ten times faster than recommended down the tracks. sparks are cascading as the metal punches sporadic screams through the air. inside the cabin there are taut fingers clawing at the sides of the seats, praying lips asking for salvation as oxygen is whipped from the passengers gaping lungs. a mother is pressing chapped lips to her sons tan forehead, a husband is folding his wifes leathery hand in his for the last time. all chests are expanded and compressed against the back of the seats, hearts imploding as the track dissolves under grinding wheels.
the train rolls on, the screams roll on, the fire rolls on.
death runs rampant late this october night.
the plane is nose-diving through the starless fog. one little girls limp head is leaning against her fathers tense arm, his lips reciting a prayer long ago forgotten. the cabin is silent except for the steady sound of breathing, the sound of cotton on cotton as legs