gamble on me.hey boy,
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
write me a story.If you ask, Ill spin you gossamer-words into the horizon.write me a story.5 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.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&
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
tell me something that mattersyesterday, you were sorting through your pullover sweaters waiting for the winter to come as you thought about how you never feel warm even with your hands tucked into stretched out sleeves. you were wearing your favorite cardigan, buttoned sloppily down the middle so that the sides hung unevenly as you sorted through your even sloppier feelings.tell me something that matters5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
tell me something that matters.
tonight, youre in love with this wool coat that buttons uneasily and has pockets with holes in them so you lose both your rhymes and your reasons. youre finally realizing that your favorite song is the tune hummed by train horns at 2:40 am since you can hear the sound while you're lying awake thirteen blocks and four houses away thinking about how that was the backdrop to your late night romances in his house that lies parallel to the train tracks. youre convincing yourself that your heart isnt broken and you wear that coat even though it makes you sneeze since its dusty with memori
bromide and other nonchemicalsshes empty mouthed.bromide and other nonchemicals5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
she cant explain but its like that pins and needles feeling except in her heart. its like she could have said twelve thousand and four different things and she picked the wrong one. its the way shes no good with words except she tries forcing her ideas into verses and stanzas and neatly packaged displays of her individualism. so its as if shes set up an exhibit in her mind, complete with glass windows for people to press their handprints into, staining her already disheveled head with traces of themselves. shes empty mouthed since she just realized that not a single bit of her is original, and in all this clutter, shes finally seeing tiny pieces of everyone shes ever met.
shes broken hearted.
but not in the sense that shes ever been in love. its like she lives in a room built for two, but shes sleeps in a bed thats half-empty. shes heard all the stories
late this october night.right now:late this october night.5 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
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
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'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
then again, maybe.maybe i am the reason this bed is emptyemptyempty but for one.then again, maybe.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
maybe i am the explanation for the way the tires are peeling out or the way youve already changed your voicemail to me instead of we. maybe i am the excuse for the way our love has a white flag and is curled in the corner, calling mercymercymercy.
maybe i am the poison-tongue and killing-hands that you tell me i am, maybe you deserve someone who doesnt unravel like yarn in the afternoon, click their tongue against their mouth and expect you to help gather the pieces and put them back together in the evening.
maybe i am toomuchtoomuchtoomuch for anyone to ever expect to decipher, understand, control. maybe i am too hot (you did run with burned hands), maybe i am too wild (you did run with barbed wire-scars), maybe i am too irrepressible (you did run spitting saltwater from your lungs). maybe i am more than enough, maybe i am.
then again, maybe i am unruly like wild horses and you just were
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
when i say one day.one day, i'll smile when i remember you.when i say one day.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
if the winds of change have stopped blowing and i find myself tossed out of the gusts, i'll smooth back my hair and sink to the ground. and if it is silent where i sit, i'll close my eyes and face the memories i've been running from. i'll remember the way you ducked your head when you laughed or contorted your face to catch me off guard. i'll remember the way you could slip a word into a conversation that would completely derail me and how you'd use your next breath to scoop me back up. i'll remember the way i was never sure of where i stood with you but how i always knew i didn't want to be standing anywhere else.
that's when i'll lay down on my back and let my thoughts off their leashes for a while. i'll let them yip and howl and run in wild, arcing circles. i'll see your face rising above their writhing forms but that won't surprise me terribly much because you're so often with them.
and it will make me think of the first time you
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
we're breaking fate.i'm crying but there are no tears; i'm laughing but there is no sound.we're breaking fate.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
music is playing but i can't cage the beat. i'm just sitting in the middle of a wind storm and counting the seconds to sleep. counting the seconds until i fly. counting the seconds until i can see your face again. because your mouth is like whiskey and i'm always under the influence whenever you're around. ohoh, if i had the words, i'd give them all to you in a beat of my stuttering heart. because you always know that everything i want is everything you have and everything i have is already yours.
i can't keep myself from you. i can't keep myself from the flames but i'm going down swinging. i'm going down hard. i'm too close to the fire and too far from the heat. i'm dancing a million miles a minute trying to get your attention but you're too far away to see and i'm sweating blood and bleeding sweat and i just want to be where you are.
remember when we were thirteen? we had hot, dirty hands and innocent eyes and dan
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
my little heart of mine.dear little heart of mine,my little heart of mine.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
i need you to be brave for me. i know you're trembling on wires and clacking against bird-bone ribs, but i need you to set your teeth and stiffen that upper lip. i know it's scary and we aren't getting any medals for courage any time soon, but i think if we both hold hands and close our eyes, we can get through this.
i need you to know though that this is probably going to hurt.
i'm not saying we'll be bleeding and gasping on the floor. i'm not saying we're going to lock the front gates and shut off the lights and fasten the shutters, but i can't lie to you and say we will be living in eternal sunshine. we won't.
we can't hide behind the wall forever though. if we want to get what we love to dream about, we're going to have to step in the frontline. we're going to have to brave the machine fire and remind ourselves that it's worth it. i promise you, it might be. it might be worth taking the bullet.
and it will be okay, because we aren't the type to simply bre
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
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.
i can't see the sky.i hate the word lonely.i can't see the sky.5 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
you're asking me.if you asked me who i am, i'd probably forget to tell you my name.you're asking me.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
instead i'd tell you that my eyes are blue and i'm shorter than most but taller than some. i'd tell you that i like walking better than driving because feeling the ground under my feet is somehow affirmation that i am alive and that i am connecting to something bigger than me. i'd tell you that i think the sky looks too big at night and not big enough in the morning. i'd probably explain that has something to do with the fact that i wake up with every intention of flying and go to sleep knowing my elbows haven't sprouted wings yet.
but don't worry, i'd say, because i'll wake up hopeful again tomorrow.
and if you were to wait around a little more, i might be persuaded to tell you i'd lost my mind seven years ago and would you be kind enough to help me look for it? i'd probably tell you about the boy with teardrop-eyes who chewed up my heart because he thought it'd be aspirin and was indignant when it burned a hole throug
i hope you never read this.dear you-know-who-you-are,i hope you never read this.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
you'll probably never read this and if you do, i hope you forget it right away. i hope you think it's about anyone else but you, that you shrug it off and are thinking about something else as soon as you click it [me] away. i hope you don't think about how my heart is still hung up on the hook you planted in it. i hope you don't realize that my thoughts still orbit around you whenever i'm alone and my defenses are down.
but i hope some part of you knows:
i hate you for what you put me through. i hate you for the way i cry in the shower because i feel better not knowing if the water on my face is salty or not. i hate you for the way i drive too fast because speed is the only thing i feel can whisk away your memory. i hate you even more for the way your absence never lasts for long.
i hate you for the way you left without looking back, the casual ease with which you accepted the dissolving of whatever it was we were. i hate you for moving on when i'm stuck in p
this probably isn't about youthis probably is about how the sun was on the opposite side of the sky when i woke up this morning. and how my name looks wrong every time i write it until it's gotten to the point that i'm not even sure how to spell it. it's about how everything has been flying out of my control so that i can't remember how to walk without making a sound. or how to hold on to the edges when my vision gets too blurry. this is almost certainly about how you live one and three fourth miles to the north of me, but i forgot and slept facing the south last night so now i just feel like i turned my back on you.this probably isn't about you5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
but really, this isn't about you.
it's about how i've subscribed to the same three magazines for three years now, and every time i open them i feel like i've seen it all before. and how today is like yesterday and four days before that. it's about how i'm a repeat stuck on repeat, and we're all the same, and i'm drowning in an ocean of these fluid lies and tired eyes. this is maybe, almost completely
it doesn't come free.if you want it, you're going to have to catch it.it doesn't come free.5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
you're going to have to run until your feet are caked with silt and your mouth is burned with wind, until your heart is laboring behind rusted ribs. you're going to have to chase it through sand storms and ocean tantrums and to the edge of the world and over. you're going to have to strip out of your clothes and inhibitions and fear and pride because it's not slowing down. it's not going to idle in anticipation or pause or give you a fair shake. it's going to twist in currents and cut corners and laugh as it's free diving into still lakes.
if you want it, you're going to have to tempt it.
you're going to have to promise with a honeyed tongue and then confess with bare-boned honesty. you're going to have to be cunning and honest, vulnerable and strong. you're going to have to know the art of silence under blue moon stars and the seduction of words breathed through smoke veils. you're going to have to twist poetry from your capillaries an
don't drag me into love.i keep choking on saltwater.don't drag me into love.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
with every breath, i'm dragging the seaweed and lies deeper into my lungs. every insecurity is swelling and dancing before me, every flaw magnifying until i can't see around it. i'm crawling on hands and knees up the beach and coughing up my mistakes, but i can't stop myself from making another one. i'm sitting with trembling hands, a spinning head and i can't stop, i just can't seem to fucking stop.
i'd like to say i'm beautiful, i'd like to say i'm strong, but we know it's a lie. i'd like to say my mistakes make me endearing, my idiosyncrasies make me charming, but it couldn't be further from the truth. in reality, i'm insecure and shaking, i'm crashing down the stairs and sobbing against the bloody carpet. i'm trembling and biting my lip, throwing fists against the wall, screaming at the stars as if they have some answer to offer me. i'm begging the moon for salvation as if it's hidden somewhere beneath the scarred surface.
can't you see? i'm lost, i'm c