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.
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
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
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
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.when i say it isn't personal.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
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
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
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&
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
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
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
my little heart of mine.dear little heart of mine,my little heart of mine.6 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
i can fight gravity.do you really want to know how im feeling?i can fight gravity.6 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
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
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
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 injecting this love song.dear ribs,i'm injecting this love song.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
thank you for protecting what i hold most precious. thank you for blocking the bigger blows, absorbing the momentum with a shock and a shudder. i know it isn't easy to stand guard, but i breathe easy knowing you're there to shield me. maybe someday i'll unlock you at the clavicle and open you up, but for now: stay strong.
thank you for never complaining when i shove you into all my messes. thank you for working through the worst of the damage, straightening up my mistakes with surgical precision. i know it's hard working solo but i have such confidence in you. maybe someday we'll find someone that'll fill up your empty spaces, but for now: keep the faith.
thank you for being there when i'm carving apologies between your vertebrae. thank you for stiffening when i want nothing more than to melt to the ground. i know you'd rather go limp instead of working all the time, but when i can't trust myself, i'm leaning on you. maybe someday we'll find som
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
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
catch me if you can.i cant help myself.catch me if you can.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
i cant help that i live with the wind wound around my teeth and my lungs on fire. i cant help that i dont know the meaning of fractions and instead give only in wholes, never brushing cold water with a toe but closing my eyes and diving into the deep end. if i knew how, i would practice restraint. if i thought i could, i would exercise caution on a daily basis so that i might protect myself from the dangers i invite freely into my heart.
but i was born without that skill. i am instead throwing my foot to the ground and letting the car fishtail around the turns, breathing in whiskey-laced speed because i die slowly in stale monotony. so when i grab your hand and sprint towards the edge, know its because i cant do anything different.
if i could walk leisurely through rose gardens: i would.
if i could press sweets to your tongue and let them slowly dissolve: id do nothing less.
but i cant. i am having you choke
secondhand inspiration.i am more than a girl with dirty hair and burned fingertips.secondhand inspiration.5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
i am more than the insecurities that pile up and fog my mirror, and more than the cowardice i write about so lovingly on my fractured clavicle. i am not just this freckled skin and i am not these cramping feet that twitch under mahogany desks. i am not the girl that sits in the corner and allows the world to draw a box around me, and i am not the girl to sit and allow the world to thieve my words and plant them in their own private gardens.
i have my poems in a headlock and i am holding them under water until they breathe inspiration again. i am chasing down shadows and demanding they give me my words back, demanding that they spit up what they've stolen from my ribcage as i slumber. i am not the world, but the world is me and i will not sit in quiet as it plunders the dream box at the back of my skull.
you see, these syllables that craft my spine and run through the unseen blue of my veins are not the same when they trip sec
we're breaking fate.i'm crying but there are no tears; i'm laughing but there is no sound.we're breaking fate.6 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
my thoughts are fear biters.my heart is too wildmy thoughts are fear biters.6 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
for me to cage it in a
delilah whispers secrets.delilah doesn't believe in emergencies, only in miracles.delilah whispers secrets.6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
she spends twelve hours out of every twenty four practicing the perfect inhale but hasn't quite mastered the exhale, so she'll often spend her days walking around with all of her gold-dust wishes still trapped in her lungs. if you ask she'll just smile, tell you they're immature anyway and if she doesn't mind their company why would she mind them still living at home? she's convinced they'll move out when they're ready to face the world.
delilah thinks cloud watching is exactly how it sounds.
she'd rather be chasing them over the horizon and stuffing them in her pockets, because what's the point in admiring if you're just going to wave goodbye every time? she once tried the same theory with puppies when she was ten and returned the yapping lab with rosy cheeks and every intention to try again. you'll sometimes see her scratching bonnie behind the ears with secrets in her eyes, holding a finger to her mouth if she catches you l
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
when i say one day.one day, i'll smile when i remember you.when i say one day.6 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