it's not enough.i will never regret running into the freeway.
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
instead of breathing.it's a quarter to three and twenty minutes past any hope for sleep tonight.instead of breathing.5 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.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
catch me if you can.i cant help myself.catch me if you can.5 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
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
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
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
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 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
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
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.5 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
if i had the words.you should know, i've never struggled for words before.if i had the words.5 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
i've spent my life welding and mixing them, chopping the corners up to make them be whatever i wanted them to be. but when it comes to you, i always manage to fall short, reduced to hallmark cards and hollow sayings that are trying to be something they will never be. cheap words puffing up their chests and trying to be something grand and sublime. attempting to wear a plastic crown and order the ocean into submission.
so this isn't easy, i'm not weaving words out of thin air.
instead, i'm wrenching them from between my teeth and exposing them to their inaugural sunlight. i'm cracking open my heart and spilling it out, rearranging it into something coherent so that you might understand. so bear with me.
bear with me when i say that my heart is whole today because you have always been patient enough for midnight surgeries. my spine is straight because you were always there for me to lean on. my pride is unwounded because you were ne
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
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
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
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 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&
hello, beautiful.these are the times i will always remember:hello, beautiful.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
walking through crowded coffee shops to see you sitting in the corner, steaming cups on the table and bright eyes lighting up the room. hellos tripping over my tongue, shy glances and bitten lips, toes curling in my shoes. hearing your baritone voice for the first time, tying my lips into knots as i fumbled over the introductions.
sitting on my bed, shaking the walls with laughter, your arms holding me close into the curve of your body. driving with the windows down while holding hands, the wind painting butterflies on my neck.
not knowing a thing about you but wanting to pick up the candle and explore. finding the most breathtaking mosaics on hidden walls, you taking my hand and laying it against your scars. your trust that i wouldn't break them open, promises sealed with virgin lips.
i will remember the anxiety and the fears and the wonder. i will remember the dreaming and doubt and finding answers that only birthed more questions. i will r
we set the ship on fire.Youre crazy.we set the ship on fire.5 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
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
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
temptation never tasted.if i'm the smoke in the middletemptation never tasted.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of the night then you're the fire
that's daring to breathe me into the
stars. and if i'm the steam fogging
up the windows, then you're
the ravaging fingers on sweat-
slicked flesh that's birthing it.
because neither of us are sweet
summer lullabies or gentle may
showers. no, we're nail-bitten
hips and saltwater-lips knocking
over vases and shoving devil-wing
shoulders into the wall. we're
pillaging hunger and insatiable greed,
sinning our way through poetic silence.
we're taking what we want and be
damned what stands in the way.
we're a wildfire tearing down
the forest, a hurricane ripping
the roofs off of the greater
metropolitan area. we're an
unnatural disaster, colliding in
an explosion of sparks and metal.
we're igniting the world until it burns
to the ground, we're wringing out the
ocean. we're standing in the middle
of the dust-hazed war zone we've
created and all we can notice is heat.
consider this just one more.i need you to stop needing me.consider this just one more.5 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
delilah whispers secrets.delilah doesn't believe in emergencies, only in miracles.delilah whispers secrets.5 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
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