Bits of Nothing 61On paper you're perfect.Bits of Nothing 614 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Isn't it a shame the world isn't made of origami?
TerrorYou canTerror3 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 Nothing4 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.
I Will Not Tell LiesAfter the fifth beerI Will Not Tell Lies2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
she would always
start to speak truths
and they said,
'You shouldn't drink beer,'
but they meant
'You shouldn't speak truths,'
and they would watch her slowly refill her glass.
Bits of Nothing 85I honestly can't remember ever having a week as happy as the one I've just hadBits of Nothing 854 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.
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.
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
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 74 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 954 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.
Automatici.Automatic2 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
"So where are you from?" The boy leans toward me, questions swimming in his eyes. I smile.
"Oh, I'm from Boston."
"No, I mean, where are you from?" My smile falters as I realize where this is going. It's an all-too familiar conversation, one I've been having since I was old enough to reply.
"Do you mean where was I born?"
"I was born in China."
"Do you speak Chinese?"
"Does your family speak Chinese?"
He looks befuddled. I sigh.
"Oh!" I see the light bulb over his head go off in a shower of sparks. "Do you know who your real parents are? Like, your real parents?" My temper flares. I stifle the urge to throw something.
"You mean my biological parents?"
"Oh." There's an awkward pause. I have learned to wait it out, to prepare my next automated response.
"When were you adopted?"
"When I was a year old."
"Did you live in an orphanage?"
"Like in Annie?"
Rolling my eyes seems appropriate.
"No, not l
ToddThere was a big fanfare when Todd came back. Even a couple of newspaper reporters showed up. It was only right I guess, what with him being dead for a year. At least I think it was a year. I mean, he was gone for eight and I'm pretty sure if a person is missing for seven years the government declares them dead or something. I know that his parents bought a tombstone from the place on First Street a while ago. They put it up in their family lot at the cemetery, next to his grandparents. I went to visit it after the funeral. It had his name and a little inscription. They left the dates off though. After that they took him off the missing persons list too. I know because I used to check it.Todd2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I'll bet that everyone was real pissed when they found out the truth. He got into town on Tuesday but nobody said a word until Friday. Then on Satur
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.)
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.
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
Bits of Nothing 153I don't like cities and I don't like trainsBits of Nothing 1533 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but I like travelling.
I like people in text form
because I can switch them off or put them away if it gets too much.
I wish I could close my eyes and melt and be wherever I want to be
and I can
but when I open them I find I haven't moved.
I want to buy a boat
but not a big boat because big boats are scary.
(How do they stay above the water?)
I want a kayak
with two seats
because I'm not strong enough to row against the current on my own
(I'm working on it)
but I don't want to steer
I just want to drift
and I need to know there's someone there who can bring us back to shore.
I wouldn't even if I had the strength
because I'm far too attracted to the idea of drifting forever.
By the time I realise I'm just a tiny canoe on an unending sea it might be too late
and death by drowning is what my second seat is there to save me from.
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.
How To Ask Someone To Let You Love ThemI think you keep secrets under your skinHow To Ask Someone To Let You Love Them2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
like trees keep rings and do not know it,
like the sea teems,
like dark and quiet space
keeps every ray of light
the stars whispered to one another
when they were still young
and dying to make love.
I think you keep secrets in you
like the desert keeps sands,
like sleep keeps dreams,
like cities keep sleepless people
and people looking for sleepless people
to fall asleep with.
I think you keep secrets
like secrets like to be kept,
and I want to learn them all.
The ElementsI.The Elements2 years 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
in the seams(a) when I was young I was a robin that stole the eggs from another's nest.in the seams2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
fitted upon my stare there was a warning
personal's too personal for me, well i
would not use wings if i had 'em.
a child of rye with a silhouette spoiled by the sun, I was, I am.
and sometimes I see some vengeful sparrows still under my fingernails;
their glistening beaks snap melodies that rib a hundred bird-bone cages,
so light you could blow 'em away with a twist of your lungs.
and there are still words jailed between my teeth and my tongue and I do not speak of,
do not think of
but they rattle between bone and flesh and I
drown them sometimes when I sing.
(b) oh, you:
"love is a hobby like anything else, and I no longer have the time."
she asks me what I'm writing:
I am constructing a corpse can't you hear
me as I speak the meaning out of my name and
you bleed like I smile:
slowly, and without malice.
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