Dirty LaundryLoading up the washing machine, and my mind is sprawling around in several destinations far from this cramped room. I spritz my clothes- no, actually I drench them with that spray- the kind that's supposed to work miracles on any stain before the affect fabric even goes in the washer. This was my favorite shirt. My favorite shirt. I'm just not thinking today, am I?
The cotton feels good on my fingers, even though I'm stuffing it roughly into the machine. And all the towels...I didn't learn it until I'd moved out, but Mom was right: washing towels and clothes in the same load led to an outright ungodly amount of lint stuck in everything. I pause. Do I really want to do two separate loads?
Yeah, why not? Water begins to fill up, and I'm dousing it with that lovely detergent that smells so good and pure.
I sit down opposite the machine and just stare at it for a while. It rumbles pleasantly, numbly, and my mind drifts. What a nice sound, surely one could just meditate with i
She Was a Stormcloudshe was a stormcloud, and you loved her,She Was a Stormcloud3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and the two of you took walks and wore
nothing but promises,
broken chains and
strands of pinkish pearls.
and the two of you kissed under trees that attracted silver lightning
(metal branches scraped the sky, and you, always faithful,
tipped your coat over her head to keep her dry.)
but she never stayed that way.
in an instant, she had whirled into the rain
and danced without clothes,
and she left you
with the pain of frostbite on your naked skin
where you trusted her to kiss you warm,
and you thought you heard her laughter
when the sun came out again the next day,
and the next.
she was a stormcloud, and you loved her,
and you didn't know it at the time but
(and they never
Be StillSome small curl of smoke,Be Still1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
across a mess of sheets;
a tilted query masked in breath...
...perhaps someone just spoke.
Cold fingers against moist skin,
blinking at those floating protein strands,
back and forth into breathless silence...
as they say..."better out than in."
Rolling that curl around your tongue,
while my mouth goes numb with cotton;
because that ceiling is falling...
...with a twilight that just won't come.
And the onyx is as sweet,
as the darkness beneath
laughter dances....finality drenches the tips
of weary wandering feet.
Dreamersi.Dreamers3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
our backs pressed stories into the hillside.
mine was short and deep
and yours grew long and crooked .
the grass died beneath us when the sun sank below the hill.
"when the clouds change shape,
that's when i leave you,"
and i cried as they shifted with your breath.
"don't forget me."
"i'll be back in the springtime.
try not to miss me."
i missed you in places i never knew i had,
and the night fell down around me and it was all i could do to hold up an end of its black blanket to let the moon pass through.
and when the morning came,
i ached for you.
"babe, don't miss me."
"you say that as if it's easy."
"we're dreamers, babe. everything is easy."
this bed is full of dream-husks.
they keep me turning until the morning.
i am unrecognizable.
i'll be longer than i thought.
the nights are cold here
but i'm more alive than ever.
don't worry about me."
black shadows stole y
PaydayI pick up my skirt and slip off my shoesPayday9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
so I can dance on the dusty
line between abject poverty and hope
because the kids in the broken cement homes know this paycheck
won't cover bread and I gotta distract them somehow.
I prayed my
whole life for my A's and gold stars to mean
something, but God doesn't check
report cards when he's giving out miracles,
and I'm done pretending being good will
pay the electric bill.
Breathe.One. Two. Three. Four. Five.Breathe.4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Inhale. Hold your breath. Exhale.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Inhale. Hold your breath. Exhale. Eyes focused on his chest.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Hands crossed as if you were praying.
Inhale. Hold your breath. Pinch his nose. Lock lips. Exhale.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. "Don't give up on me now!" Dizzy feeling.
Inhale. A tear falls. Hold your breath. Muffled cry. Exhale.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Shoulders in agony."Please! Breathe!"
HereFour year old Keaton gripped a green crayon in his tiny fist, pressing it hard against the paper. His parents fought beneath the sound of the tv in the background. Scribbling in rhythmic circles, he furrowed his brow. His mother came into the room, a dishtowel in her hands.Here5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"What are you drawing, Keaton?" Her voice had the tremble of someone forcing their words to sound happy.
"Money," he said, then glanced up.
She came closer, examining the pages scattered around him from behind. All contained a dollar, done again and again in various sizes.
"You've drawn a lot of it."
"Yeah," he said, "we need a lot, so we can be happy."
She put a hand to her lips, standing there, then bent down beside him. "Money can't make us happy, Keaton."
"I am going to draw so much that you and daddy never fight again."
His mother sighed, putting a hand to her forehead, and was silent for a moment as he continued to color in green bill
Breathe"I'm very sorry."Breathe4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
"There's nothing to be done."
"She's going to die."
"Would you like to say goodbye?"
EdgeI found her cutting in the woods. High up in a tree where only birds should be. Vultures were circling against the blue. Waiting for her to pass out. To fall to her death meters below. She was almost gone by the time I spotted her. Half-starved. Fully crazed. Her eyes burned with unspoken words. She hated me. Hated herself. Hated everything. But clung to the tree as if it were her only friend. Spreading and squeezing blood from her sliced skin onto the rough bark. Turning the deep brown red. Crying. And moaning. And whispering things I did not know. Patches of words I will never comprehend.Edge4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I begged her to come down. To leave the blade in the tree and come home. I would patch her up. Make everything better.
She only cried harder. Whispered faster. Clenched the unforgiving razor tighter. And tighter. And tighter in her tiny hand as blood dripped from her fingers and palm faster and faster and faster. Until I screamed so loud for her to stop that her hand snapped open. And she dropped th
TearsA cry of a girlTears4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Is hurting inside
She feels so trapped,alone,unwanted
Crying for someone to go beside
All she can do is cry
Nobody cares,nobody worries,nobody listens
She's invisible,wishing she was never born
She's heart-broken,so brutally torn
Crying herself to sleep in the pitch black night
Wishing someone could just tell her it will all be all right
But no one seems to be in sight
No one will be there when she needs comfort
No one is going to be there when she needs love or warmth
This crying girl wants to be free
For that lonely girl is me
Fallen AngelI saw You.Fallen Angel3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The last time you called my name
I was falling.
They cut my wings and I kissed the earth.
I tried to look up at you
and they closed the door,
they tied my freedom.
And I thought I'd be free.
Nobody knew me here.
People treated me like a piece of paper,
where nobody wants to draw.
I wished my wings so bad
but they wouldn't grow back again,
I wouldn't be able to fly,
I wouldn't be able to save,
I wouldn't be able to help.
Your Mother stroked my face
thinking I'd go back asking for mercy.
Your Brothers showed me their hands to hold me,
but my darkness didn't let me see their hearts.
I tried to find human affection
and they played with my intentions,
they made me mad, they broke my eyes
and I only saw the pain of my selfish.
I dreamed of days when we loved,
I remembered your voice
treating me like a son.
I wanted to feel again the pureness of my lips.
But I was there, alone, begging for a kiss.
Women gave me passion
and I could touch a kind of Heaven
but the fire of my chest dis
ReunionRaine felt desperately low class as she sat on the back porch of her Uncle Marvin's country home, sipping homemade mulberry wine from a red plastic cup and swatting away mosquitoes. Or gnats. She couldn't tell anymore. Her family, both extended and immediate, didn't seem to mind the situation as much as she did. Each seem pleased with the too-sweet wine, hoppy beer and dollar-store soda as they occupied themselves with family ties. Adults stood in various groups on the expansive, crab-grassed lawn, talking politics, food, sports, kids, anything really; and nothing at the same time. A group of shirtless uncles and male cousins played bocce, cigarettes and college brand beer bottles skillfully grasped in one hand as they deftly rolled brightly-colored grapefruit sized balls toward the safety-orange pallino. The younger ones were running wild behind the far-off tree line, waging war via volleyball, or swimming in the river that cut through the property. Unlike Raine, none of them seemed tReunion5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
A blind loveA pure heartA blind love4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
so far from here
and so close.
A beautiful life
to shine and shine
And I'm without you
but you're with me.
A big sun above my head
and my eyes can't see.
Let me imagine the shape of your cheeks.
Let me imagine the colour of your teeth.
Show me how I can live in a world without rainbow.
Teach me how to love something I don't know.
Just my hands stroking your forehead
and my fingers touching your lips can tell me about you.
Your hair is so soft,
it feels like the water of the sea kissing my legs.
There is no day or night to me,
Everything is just ...grey?
Only the sound of your voice
calms down my anxiety to see you,
my anxiety to live.
Your hands on my face tells me how pretty you are.
Your body warming my heart says how much you love this blind man.
Your eyes...your eyes, I can't talk about them
But I guess they're just wonderful
like a kind of Heaven waiting for me.
If my soul knew what is red or blue
I'd paint you in each centimeter of my skin.
If your tears had a colour
Say Oh SinSay oh sinSay Oh Sin5 years ago in Spoken Word More Like This
What you've done
Corrupted sweet minds
All their goodness
Sing the melody
Of what atrocities
All of the hate
Till your spinning
On the remains
I don't know howI could count eighty seconds in a minuteI don't know how3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
just seeing you
and they were not enough.
I could look into your eyes more than
a mother could look at her children
and it was not enough.
I could write seventy poems about your smile
and they were not enough.
I'm afraid you laugh.
I'm afraid you lie.
I've been waiting for this for long.
I've tried to show you my heart, my dreams, my soul,
I don't know what else to do.
I don't know how to say it.
I don't know what word to use.
But if you don't love me,
I can't do much.
If you don't feel the sun each time I say your name,
then I can do nothing.
If you think I'm just a friend,
then I can't insist.
I really believed you thought of me
everytime I had to go.
I really thought you needed me so much when you cried,
when I stroked your cheeks.
I thought you were my soulmate,
my dream, my girl, my all.
I might say sixty times 'I love you'
and you wouldn't move a finger for me.
I might give you the sky
and you wouldn't fly over my clouds.
She'll never know -Guy's view-She'll never know how much I love herShe'll never know -Guy's view-4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She'll never know how much I care
She'll never know that I would give up everything for her
She'll never know that she means the world to me
She'll never know that I would never leave her side
She'll never know that I would try my best not to make her cry
She'll never know how I would fight for her
She'll never know how much I need her
She'll never know how I would stick by her side no matter what
She'll never know how every time she smiles it makes my heart stop
She'll never know how much I truly love and adore her
She'll never know
CheatsThe light makes cheatsCheats2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of us both,
so we change clothes
in the greedy dark
or thinking twice.
We do not touch,
our skin afraid to lose
or breathe too close.
We pass in the street
but do not acknowledge
in the glare of taxi cabs
or the stiff pull of elevators.
We do not rub elbows
or let our shoulder blades
But I would know you
anywhere - any place
the sun is uneasy
and the skin of us
or strangers are told
in another direction.
runs in the family.from my fatherruns in the family.6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
i inherited cold gray eyes and
a stubborn pride;
and from my mother i received
the unwillingness to
stay and a fear
i'm sorry that i didn't pick up
the phone or
listen to your year old
messages– you should probably get
used to it.
Do Not DisturbYou know, there's nothing more tempting than a closed door.Do Not Disturb4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
So, you can imagine what I thought when I was a wee little girl and I first saw that armoire in my Grandmother's home. She lived in the French country-side, and every break in the winter-time, we would spend with her.
My Grand-mère loved to entertain us children with stories of her childhood, and old French fairy-tales that her Grandma had told her when she was our age. She especially told us about her cabinet. The one she called cachette.
Grand-mère told adventure stories, of love and life and death. The main character of her story was always a red headed girl with almond-shaped eyes that was painfully shy (at this point, my little sister would exclaim that it was me, for I did have red hair and I never spoke more than I needed too). My cousins and I would ask for our personal favorite stories about this little red-haired girl. My favorite was told like this:
The child's family had moved from England to Germa
Facebook ProfileI don’t remember when I got into the habit of it. I just remember realising one morning, as I sipped my tea and ate my breakfast, that reading my Facebook profile was as much a part of my morning routine as brushing my teeth.Facebook Profile5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It was the first thing I did when I got home from work too, and the last thing before going to bed. Whether I had messages or not didn’t matter, I always read my profile; my activities, my favourite books, what I’d written in the About Me section.
Was it vanity? I don’t think so; I got no narcissistic pleasure from it. The thought occurred to me that I was reminding myself who I am. I laughed the thought away.
In a funny moment last night I edited my profile, and removed my date of birth.
This morning, I discovered I can’t remember how old I am.
a Physicist's diary[April 17] Maria is getting sicker; tuberculosis is washing her life away day after day, but all the beauty of this World still shines in the depths those tormented eyes. I'm not as strong as she is, I can't bear my impotence. As a scientist once I used to think that the matter had no secrets I couldn't unveil: "Oh, how fool I was... miserable small ant!".a Physicist's diary1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
[May 10] The physician has suggested a period of rest on the mountain. Two or three months should be enough, then we will back home and he will visit her again. While telling this, he has looked me shaking his head almost imperceptibly. I hate him with all my heart, for that motion and for he can't save her; I hate God, in which in the past I didn't believe at all and now I need so much to have a guilty... and I hate myself.
[May 22] We took a nice Chalet in Courmayeur with a marvelous view of the landscape and the night sky for me and rarefied air so precious for my bride. There's something no honest man can deny about Italy: this c