Bits of Nothing 61On paper you're perfect.Bits of Nothing 613 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Isn't it a shame the world isn't made of origami?
TerrorYou canTerror2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Bits of Nothing 145When I feel alone I like to think about the people who mean something to meBits of Nothing 1453 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
like my mum and my dad
and that man whose only role in my life
is to be the person that I walk past every morning at twenty to six
and I imagine we both wonder where each other are going
(sometimes when he's not there I worry about him)
and sometimes at night I walk down the middle of the road
to see if a car will hit me and it never has yet
but I don't think I'll do that anymore
because I'm going to learn to drive soon and I can't stop imagining
how I'd feel if I was the person in the car.
When I was thirteen I used to stand on the tips of my toes
at the edges of bridges and sway
and imagine how it would feel when I hit the ground
and wonder if anyone would be able to fix me afterwards
(OK so it was only one bridge, one time, but it made me feel powerful for a second, like I was in control of my life or something)
Once you told me you thought broken heads could be fixed like broken legs
like you thought you co
Bits of NothingI don't remember what I was going to write but I know that it was succinct and beautiful and it summed up exactly how I feel with the necessary number of words and it wasn't fanciful or over the top or pretentious and now, dream-like, it's gone and I'll never be able to find it again.Bits of Nothing3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Instead, all I have is this and it's everything I didn't want it to be.
ISLNDSyou like the wayISLNDS2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the i slants,
in a sea
in cropped crests
made to full-
in lost chests.
now a motive
and proceed greedily,
the leap's froth;
breath is only
as sweet as the
speech that breeds thought.
if only, if only.i.if only, if only.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
we drove nowhere
and we spoke a language
that nobody understood
underneath a foreign sky
blanketed in the scent of pine.
you told me
my eyes were like envelopes
because they were always
fluttering to the sound
of breaking seals
and ink stained fingertips.
i told you
we should run away
to a new land
with new faces
i was enamored
with people i had never encountered
and places i had never gone.
you laughed at me
and said that
if i didn't spend
so much time with my head
buried in world maps
i would realize
that i was living on one.
it rained that day
and the tea went cold
but the wind kept whistling
blue skies are coming
and i sighed
vi. our film expired in may
but time replays it in my dreams
as a flock of birds
head north in the sky
(if they can move on after summer
and gather their souls
then maybe i too will try.)
Counting ScarsI think the reason you think that you didn't do anything wrong is because you didn't.Counting Scars1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
You just broke my heart a little bit, each day.
There was no big scandal,
no dramatic break up.
Just a lot of misunderstandings
and blind, blind stabs in the dark.
I know you think that you didn't do anything wrong;
The trouble is, you didn't do anything right either.
Bits of Nothing 85I honestly can't remember ever having a week as happy as the one I've just hadBits of Nothing 853 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and you didn't start being in my life again until the seventh day.
I've come to a very important realisation:
I don't need you
I want you
and there is a beautiful and comforting difference between those two statements.
resipiscenthe was one of those dick-faced kids in shades of bright polyester salmon who seemed to always be laughing or looking at me. an ambiguous-named, feminine-famed all-school american douchebag in those quality leather sandals in the wintertime and golf-green shorts.resipiscent2 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
ta give you some background i'm about as far away on the social scale from him as one can get. you know how all the little groups overlap and flap together, pushed around in the wet sand like wave-rivulets blending little facets of stones together until it makes a dune? well our groups---they didn't even touch. i mean you could go from pop-jock to lacrosse to dipper to weed-dealer to hipster to artsy kid to photographer to theatre kid and MAYBE just MAYBE make a weak little chain like one o em shitty-ass jump rings that connect dollar-store lockets. but anyway the point i'm trying to make is we sit on opposite sides of the room and let sociology take its toll.
of course murphy's law works in that i never know anyone. is it that
PressureSomething broke.Pressure2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A hard CRACK while sitting in
a soft chair. No pain registered.
The absence of it
is like watching explosions in space.
You follow the curve of your skull. You remember
how skulls are formed like tectonic plates.
Your head wants to be a planet,
volcanic, living, in change.
You continue to your left shoulder,
the one with all the problems.
But today, it has nothing to say.
Your rib cage moves
like oceanic waves, expecting a storm
that hasn't come.
You stand up,
you consider your legs,
nothing feels wrong,
But you can break
more than your body.
Harvest MoonThree a.m. moonlightHarvest Moon2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
across lazy dust motes; a
tree scrapes the window.
Your arm weighs on my hip like
whispered promises of love.
Bits of Nothing 7I fell asleep crying on your floor last night and you didn't notice because you were fast asleep.Bits of Nothing 73 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I only came here because you said I wouldn't dare go home alone and you knew it would work
because you know that is what I fear the most.
If anything was going to convince me of the existance of god then it would be the existance of you.
Maybe, just maybe, you were made in his/her/its image
and somehow they managed to fuck up just a little bit when they made everybody else.
Bits of Nothing 95Last year was about holding onto things so hard that they started to break.Bits of Nothing 953 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
This year is about learning that everything doesn't fall apart around me if I let go.
SuperimposeHe doesn't look like a gymnast. He's all button down shirts and frazzled grey hair framing wire spectacles, a picture perfect professorial archetype down to the very tips of his frayed shoelaces. But he was a gymnast once, or so he tells us, and I believe him because he smiles like he knows something while he's chatting before class.Superimpose2 years ago in Sketches More Like This
It's strange to see that image superimposed over the current one the distinguished professor in pressed khaki slacks and a jacket, worn brown loafers exuding a faintly courteous manner (you can always tell them by their shoes), and a ring on the fourth finger of his left hand versus the athletic kid who went to college for a semester and grew nine inches too tall to keep doing what he loved so he took up a tennis racquet instead. Gymnasts don't wear suit jackets; no steel mill worker has such manicured nails. But the images are all there, flickering just under the surface and bubbling up again when he's recounting stories about his days in Pi
Bits of Nothing 97You said that leaving me wasBits of Nothing 973 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
one of the biggest mistakes of your life
and that means a lot because
you've done some really stupid things.
Down By The SchoolyardThere is a rather cliched phrase that states that some people live double lives. I have always found that to be an intensely misleading statement and I guess you can call it a bit of a pet peeve of mine. No one leads "double lives", they just lead fucking lives. That those lives are more complex that the singular one-track existence of lesser creatures shouldn't be a matter of duplicity, but of common sense. No one is exactly who they seem to be.Down By The Schoolyard3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Julio is one of those who they would later say lived a double life, but it is no more true for him than anyone else. The difference in this case is that there are two of him, rather than one.
Perhaps it was a development caused by his utter mediocrity. Everything from his mind to his personality to his face was completely average. Even his name is forgettable, and elicits annoying references to schoolyards and outdated musical classics.
It was in this space of utter pointlessness that I was born. I started out as a craving for something more a
Still Not Ready to Give ThingsSome people fall in love at a finger-clickStill Not Ready to Give Things3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and their hearts matter
but some people don't
and I can't help thinking their hearts matter a little bit more.
of the ground-of the ground2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It was Sunday night when Geo climbed into my room from the fire escape. I was painting my toenails and listening to the sounds of the city: police sirens, pulsating bass, the kids in my tenement running guitar riffs back and forth with the street musicians on the sidewalk. That was the year I turned sixteen and took a two-month vow of silence to honor the death of autumn. A premature snow had robbed the season of its delicate warmth and color, forcing the maples to weep their leaves into the gutters. All that rainwater, all that decay. How could anyone create when October was dying outside their windows? Pete and Jake practiced acoustic that entire month. The rest of us were too fragile to play in suicide weather, when the right chords might move us to open our veins.
Geo sat down next to me, examining my bottle of red lacquer. "'To Eros is Human,'" he read, and rolled his eyes. "I'll keep that in mind."
I offered him my shoebox of nail polish. He selected a purple the color of opium
Bits of Nothing 158You told me you loved me onceBits of Nothing 1583 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but didn't remember saying it
because you were high on anti-depressants
and somebody else's perfume
but I remember
carrying you when you couldn't carry yourself
and holding him when I couldn't hold you.
Later I asked if you would have done what you did
if I hadn't done it first.
I think it was the most honest thing you ever said to me when you answered
"I don't know."
You invited me to her room afterwards.
I don't know if it was some kind of perverted humour
(you wanted us to be friends)
but I couldn't stay long
(did I ever tell you I'm allergic to perfume?)
Bruises are like magnets
(they're attracted to each other)
but they heal perfectly well on their own.
The ElementsI.The Elements1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Wine as red as stained glass
is lifted up & tilted back
touch wood like thunder
having given up grace
thread across wrists & palms
spent vessels returning to the heart
Fingertips suffused with pulse
lift to lightning's loveliness
Note to SelfPeople aren't always either in a relationship or looking for love.Note to Self3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Some people never find love.
Some never even look for it.
Maybe this is obvious.
Maybe I'm just being an idiot.
(I envy the ones that don't look but find it anyway.)
The Green of my Heartbeats5: Red, rude, a bully.The Green of my Heartbeats2 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
She was bored, propping her face up on her palms. Her teacher, high-voiced and chirping in fuzzy green flurries, was writing rows of sevens on the board. White chalk. The sevens were glimmering in turquoise, and she smiled.
Sevens were nice, friendly. Seven would never eat nine. Nine was just a baby, like her brother at home.
She was only five. Fives were bullies, nasty. Bright garish red, like B. B was red, but he was not as rude. He forgot things though. Like his keys. Impatient.
She sighed, her head slipping and resting on her wrist. She could feel her pulse on her cheek.
"Seven!" said her teacher, continuing to fill the board. "Say it with me. Seven!"
Later, they got to practice identifying numbers. She had learned before, at home. Kindergarten was not meeting her new knowledge expectations.
Sitting at the table, she strived to make conversation to ease the ache inside her brain. "I like sevens. Aren't they the prettiest color you've ever seen?"
They boy next