Even the stars let me down.I won't ever be the girl.
No matter how many times I wake up on the faded old couch in your second floor apartment, I won't be the kind of girl you actually want to take home. No matter how much you think you do as you migrate across the room to get closer to meas if we're magnetic. As if there is some invisible force pulling you to me like gravity.
Except I swear to God, there's none of that and I'm less inclined to believe that love works like this. Like it's some tangible thing that we can prove, define or rationalize. Like there really are some invisible strings holding us together. Like people can actually feel something forever. I still don't see it since I don't ever feel anything that lastsbesides emptiness. I can't imagine how anyone can.
Still I stay here, until I find myself tossing and turning at four am with your breath hot against my shoulder blades, and I'm finally figuring out that I have no idea what I'm doing anymore, because I think I might be doin
maybe we'll cycle like seasonsSummer never came this year.maybe we'll cycle like seasons2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It got hot, uncomfortably so, and you would call me every Thursday like clockwork. Like always. But the taste in the air was different, so were the things you would say to me.
I spent the long nights, curled in my front window, watching the fireflies flicker in the yard. Letting them blaze and die before my eyes until I couldn't pretend to be okay doing this anymore so I would pull the curtains shut and hang up on you. Hang up on the only semblance of normalcy to split up these warm days.
The sky was pinpricked with stars--always brighter in the warm evening air and the lawn was sprinkled with violets again. Everything was as it should have been. Even the sting of sunburned skin against sheets as I crawled into bed each and every evening. The only thing that had changed was this year, you weren't here, and so for me, everyday would be as cold and empty as winter.
I never thought of the last time I saw you as a goodbye. I should have been better prep
I collect bad decisions.I don't miss it anymore.I collect bad decisions.2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
These last few weeks we've learned more about ourselves than we ever hoped to know. We've met the monsters that live under our skin and make our old lives seem distant like memories. Like someone we used to know once upon a time and half forgot. An uncomfortable reminder that the people we've become aren't necessarily the best people we could be.
But, darling, we get by.
You used to always tell me that talk was cheap. Or worthless, even. You told me just because I was still speaking to you didn't mean I was saying a damn thing worth hearing. I mean after all, if you can't say it in a 160 characters, it's not worth saying, baby. I thought you were something special. I was wrong.
You were just like someone I used to know. A long, long time ago.
I grew up with all of your bad intentions. I grew up wondering who I would be if I never met you. Because for certain, knowing you has changed me more than I'd like to admit. More than I would have ever wanted. I'm not the
I hope it's worth it when I'm gone.I can't even pretend things are simple anymore.I hope it's worth it when I'm gone.2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It's raining again, and with every crash of thunder, I miss you more than I can bear. I know it's not worth saying, because really nothing much is anymore, but it doesn't make it any less true.
It's eleven ten on a Friday night, and I'm sitting in the middle of the grass, watching the downpour spill off the roof. My t-shirt is clinging to my ribcage, and my hair is sticking to my face. I can feel the water running down the ridges of my spine, the backs of my hands, clumping in my eyelashes, but still, I don't move. Sometimes, when I can't stand what the world is doing anymore, I allow myself a thunderstorm to wash everything away.
It's the meteorological equivalent to a clean break. Faster to heal -- or at least, that's what they say.
The lightning is tearing across the sky, cutting through the darkness like a crack in the atmospheric layers. I'm staring at this like I half expect all the air to disappear around me while the world disinte
these feelings should be finiteI'm terrified and I know there's nothing unique about this, but I'm standing here completely out of touch with the rest of the world, realizing for the first time that we all feel things a little bit differently, which is why this doesn't hurt for you at all. I figure the only logical reason for how you could do this as if it means nothing was if it really did mean nothing at all for you. It's easier to hate you this way. It's easier to forget you without the burn of your kiss against my skin. It's easier to stay mad if I don't have to remember the way that it felt. Most of all, I can forget this as if it's a memory in someone else's lifetime if I accept the fact that we're all different. I can be different like you. I can let this mean nothing.these feelings should be finite2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I could mean nothing if you let me. If I let me.
You talk in big words that I get sick of hearing after awhile with big ideas and wide eyes and a small heart. I once heard that you can only love something so hard, for so long, before the feelin
gravitational collapseI remember being seven years old, sitting at our scratched kitchen table and being able to see the moon through the reflective glass of the window over the sink. And I remember being terrified, because here I was sitting in same place and already the whole world had shifted and moved and rotated and spun and tilted and hurled through space at a rate so quick I could never comprehend it. To me, this was the sort of mystery you didn't try to solve.gravitational collapse2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I remember being curled up against the solid frame of your body with your right hand claimed in between both of mine. Our pale skin blending together as I traced constellations on your palms. You later told me that you thought it was because I loved the stars more than anything closer to home. But I tried to explain that an ever expanding universe scared me because I couldn't figure out where exactly it was spilling into, and how it most certainly seemed to be making a whole lot of something out of nothing, so instead I started making my own s
please let me get what i want.For two hundred and eighty four days, I woke up. I woke up with this bone-deep ache that never went away. I woke up to an incessant question playing in my mind that would never be answered. I woke up alone.please let me get what i want.2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
For two hundred and eighty four days, I woke up without you when I woke up at all. The thing about time is that it never does make anything better. It just means more space to think. It means sleepless nights trying to figure it all out. When it went wrong. How to make it better. It means slowly losing my mind. But it never once meant getting over you.
It's funny how the things you think you've forgotten always come rushing back when you're standing face to face and in one swift breath, you remember it all.
You remember everything.
The sky is always biggest right before it rains. That's how I learned to always couple disappointment with expectations since no matter how beautiful something seems, a disaster is always right on the horizon.
The waves are crashing quickly on the shoreli
second chances don't fit here.i never feel coldersecond chances don't fit here.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
than when i'm talking to you.
i don't know what this says about us.
but i know that i worry about the way
you complicate something as simple as
the beating of my heart. i don't think
i love you. not yet. not since. not
ever but maybe that's just the strong
sense of denial i've built up in the
past few months. i don't think i'll be
okay. not now. not really. not quite.
maybe you were good for me once
but you're no good for me now.
i often wonder what would happen if i
stopped speaking for awhile since all
my words ever do is make a mess out of
things that should be easy. the thing is
that when i'm happy i let myself write
a better story than what i have. i get
carried away and i make believe myself
to be a more lovable character than i'll
ever be. but this isn't fiction and the
fact is sometimes all we get is one
perfect moment. my moment was you.
but darling, when it's over, it's over.
there are no chances left. not anymore.
i don't really think i'm hopeless even
we have the softest heartbeatsi don't know what it means when you saywe have the softest heartbeats3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you don't know what i mean.
the implications of my every sentence stain the
atmosphere like neon lights and i'm left wondering
how you can still be so clueless. how after
all this time. after all the sentences we traded
with each other. after every minute that makes
the miles smaller. you still don't get it. how
you could still not get me.
this is the part where i need to remind myself
that you were never mine.
you've never been anyone's because there isn't
a sentence simple enough to make you stay so
three words and eight letters won't leave you
breathless in between my bed sheets. it won't make
you feel the same. and there isn't an idea complex
enough to make you stumble into love, because
to figure out that the world is so much more than
black and white would be admitting you've been
wrong all along.
we're not the people we once were, but maybe our
expectations are far too high.
i'm never careful enoughThe roads here wind in ways that I don't expect.i'm never careful enough2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Sometimes, I think that dashed yellow line is the only thing that keeps me moving the right way. That keeps me going. Because one wrong move could send me barreling off the highway and the freefall feeling that would come next is not something I'm unfamiliar with. It's the same thing that happens every time I think of you. I can't get over how much this place reminds me of you. I can't get over how little room there is between full-fledged fear and being in love.
Sometimes, I think maybe they're the same thing.
I don't know what keeps bringing me back here. But I find myself coming here more and more when I can't sleep. When I can't stop thinking about you. I drive the same familiar routes. Thinking the same familiar thoughts. Going to the same familiar places. I keep retracing the paths we used to take, thinking that if I follow them back far enough, I'll figure out where we went wrong. The absence of you is familiar. Almost comforting.
it's only as bad as you say.my heart beat still skips like stones. and i can almost see the breaks in the surface from where all these misconstrued feelings ripple out and dissipate. like drops of water on my window pane, bleeding together and streaming away. like dust in our airways, inhaled, exhaled and slowing settling until my whole world is covered with a thick layer of grime and i'm left wondering if this is what love is supposed to feel like.it's only as bad as you say.3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
it is, right?
because otherwise, i'm shy of the mark and even shyer of finding something new to waste my time on since these lipsthey don't move as much as they should because i tend to let my heart do all the talking so that every mistake i make reverberates and quakes and these four walls i've built around me tumble down until there's nothing but debris. i'm left to clean up the mess. refortifying my bad decisions with better intentions that are still not quite as high as they used to be.
but maybe a lower wall will let the right things in.
the chances though
winter always reminds me of you.It never snowed last December, but it was always there on the horizon. Like a bad dream on the periphery of my vision, a relentless reminder that I don't ever have control over things the way I think I do. The way I want to. Recently, I realized that I feel everything a bit too sharply. The cold. The pain. The nothingness.winter always reminds me of you.2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It's heart wrenching. It's stomach twisting.
The minute you were gone, the air in my lungs left too. It's amazing how long you can live without breathing. It's much longer than anyone tends to claim. Truthfully, it's not even the thing I miss anymore. I only miss you. I miss the feelings. I miss anything that isn't the slow crack and settle of this old building. Or the familiar beating of my heart. The sun rising and falling from the sky each and every day.
I don't remember what it's like to not wake up to a pattern, but I do remember that it was so much better than this.
I used to never know what to expect. Now I have no expectations at all. It didn't take me long t
i can't promise you anything.i made a mistakei can't promise you anything.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
when i told you that i could love you
forever. i know now that the only thing
i can know for certain is that nothing
will ever be certain again. we could
wake up tomorrow and feel something
completely different. we could wake up
tomorrow and be completely different.
that's the exciting part. it's also the
part that makes it hard to even fall asleep
in the first place.
my heart attacks
my every whim and everyday is this whirlwind
of terror and elation and i don't even know
where to end or begin or if this makes sense
anymore, but the one thing i've come to realize
is the worst kind of lie will always be the
ones you don't even know you're telling. so
i'd say i'm sorry, but i'd like to think you
already know. it's nothing worth repeating.
nothing ever is.
when i'm tired
i tend to miss you in an overwhelming sort of
way just because i'm not strong enough to fight
these feelings full time. i'm more of a halfway
girl, but there are a few things i fully understan
there's no right way anymorei do not know why we do these things to each other.there's no right way anymore3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
our sentences lack all the proper meaning. we only say what we're feeling when we're feeling nothing at all and keep all the most important things we could ever think to say safe beneath guarded tongues. we are clever in all the wrong ways.
it's about how we do all the things we're expected to because to actually do what we want the mostthe things that scare uswould mean having to take a risk. we might need to deal with the possibility that we have something to lose by doing nothing at all.
there is a complete certainty that we've gotten content in our lonelinessin our misery. we're stuck standing still, not at all responsible for the way we function, because even our hearts just keep beating because it's committed to memorynot because we make them. not because we want them to. we are incomplete in exactly the way we want to be.
if the fact that tomorrow never arrives because it's always today means that nothin
i only have nonsense.the tip of my tongue has never tasted a tragedy quite like you.i only have nonsense.3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
by now, i should know better than to do these things. but i don't.
so i will. the only sense of right and wrong i have anymore is
trapped between the edge of my teeth and the curve of your lips
and i'm losing it. fast.
not all of us spark when we kiss, but you've started the fire that's
raging down my spinal column and through my heart. i'm burning and
it hurts everywhere. i still can't bring myself to mind because at
least this way, i still get to feel something.
last night i promised myself that i would never say another word i didn't mean.
so hopefully, the next time i say i'm not in love i'll mean it. because
i can't take another minute of watching you fade in and out of my life
when i'm just ashes on your fingertips.
i remember when i wanted you to completely destroy me and then put me
back together, but you only ever got halfway there. my heart still skips
beats even after it's been burned and i still fall asleep alo
we're never what we think.at least twice a day, i find myself wishing i was less.we're never what we think.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
less of a worrier.
less of a lover.
less of a mess.
all of this would be so much better, if the disconnect between
what i want and what i have would close because then things
would be simple for the first time in years. and i could inhale
without wondering what kind of consequences it will have five
minutes from now. you can only imagine what really goes
through my mind in the time it'll take you to breathe in and
out. now hold it. like i've been holding this thought for months
the girl i was is quickly vanishing.
i've been holding it like a secret on the tip of my tongue afraid of
what the outcome will mean for me but saying it out loud doesn't
dilute the impact it's having on my insides or the way i've been
closing my eyes and trying to pretend it's not true for the better
half of a year because if there is ever one thing that you don't
want to lose it's yourself. but still, i woke up this morning
this isn't progress, because you're irreversible.You were never meant for me.this isn't progress, because you're irreversible.2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I knew it in the most obvious manner. It was in the way you had a subtle sort of comfort in your own skin a quiet and humble confidence while I struggled to make sense of the prints on my fingertips and the way one of my eyes crinkled in the corner more than the other when I smiled. You felt safe with yourself while I was always warring with my own reflection. Half the time, I didn't know who I was. A quarter of the time, I still don't. You would call this progress if you were here to see, but I just call it sad.
When you miss something for long enough, you start to forget the exact way that things happened. Or the exact way they happened to fall apart. For instance, I don't remember the first time you didn't call, but I do remember when you told me you loved me but not enough. It's never enough, is it? The point is you were gone before I could even say goodbye. You were gone before you were ever really here, but somehow I let myself bu
i'm contradictory at best.i wonder what it's like to look into your face and not want to spill every secret i've ever had. i want to be startlingly indifferent. i want to say i don't care and mean it. i want to be reckless in more than that jaywalking every morning on my way to work sort of way. i want to say something that will completely change the course of everything forever. i want to be the sort of thing people need to invent a new word for, because "cataclysmic" won't cover what a disaster i am.i'm contradictory at best.3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
i want to be someone new.
i worry about why the air always tastes several degrees colder than your skin. i know there's a correlation that i haven't figured out yet, but my mind doesn't work fast enough to make the connections anymore. i worry that all the synapses are breaking apart and my brain is shutting down. i worry that i'm dying in slow motion from the inside out so no one can even tell. not that anyone would care, but i worry about the most absurd of things. and then i worry that i don't worry enough abo
we're all standing still.He's not coming back this time.we're all standing still.3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It's hard to remember that sometimes when a door shuts, it just stays closed. There's no other consequence. No other opportunity. Just one more way you can't go. One more person that you can't follow. Sometimes, you're just as stuck as you feel so it doesn't matter if the earth travels one million six hundred thousand miles through space every day. You are in the same place as yesterday so all that other movement is just superfluous. It's not bringing anyone closer together. It's not going toward any sort of destination. There is no end. No point. It's just ceaseless movement through an ever-expanding universe that only keeps getting bigger until you're simply a tiny pinpoint that feels absolutely alone. And meaningless. Unnecessary. And all of this just makes it feel overwhelmingly true.
The truth is most of the roads here only go one way.
Some days, you believe you can get out of here and live somebody else's life in some other place and with all of th
read this without breathingDon't call me beautiful.read this without breathing3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
This isn't some over the counter form of self-deprecation. It's truth in a full-informed prescription. Maybe you've figured this out by now and I'm wasting my words telling you, but darling, I'm an acidic mess and I promise I'll burn holes through your best intentions. Read this as the label marked "warning." Or maybe I'm a battlefield and honestly, blow by blow, you're killing me. But usually, I'm simply a one-way road that dead-ends at your doorstep and I'm crashing into you.
I swear we do the worst things to each other in the worst and most nonsensical ways.
Don't pretend I'm clever.
I'm just recycled words from recycled thoughts from recycled people. Not one piece of me is remotely original. The sad truth is I'm more horrible than I seem. I'm a wildly mismatched collection of sad songs on scratched cds, half-read books and unraveling cardigans all accumulating in a giant mess meant to impress the next person and then the next. Until I realize that I just sp
i'd call it love, if it wasn't suffocating.every time it rains,i'd call it love, if it wasn't suffocating.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i think of you.
because that's all there is--
and a quick breath of air
before we all go under.
every time it rains,
i swear i'm drowning.
this mistake isn't beautiful.My biggest mistake was ever pretending I was special.this mistake isn't beautiful.3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
When a perfect moment goes to your head, it seems to be so much more than you ever imagined. Finally, the feelings are less lonely. You find that all of your sharp edges and emptiness are smoothed over and filled by someone else's words. You actually feel safe in this person's arms after a lifetime of being too afraid to get close. So when everyone tells you this is love, you believe them.
Suddenly, you can't do anything without it being completely consumed by them. Maybe this is completely unhealthytotally wrong, but all you know is now it seems like unraveling this one individual person from the strings of your thoughts would be completely impossible without your entire mind coming undone. Understandthis is why I've gone crazy.
It's also the reason my second biggest mistake is thinking too much.
I do most of my living inside my head these days. Sometimes, when I wake up in the morning, I need to remind myself that I'm
we're all made of stories.We're all either made of cells or stories, but in your case, it's both. You're somehow bigger than what one body can contain. And I know that all of this all these words and breaths and spaces aren't enough to explain you. You're better than any fiction will ever be.we're all made of stories.1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I remember sitting in the passenger seat of your car, watching the familiar city streets flick by, fast like a picture book. It felt like there was something I was missing between the pages and second story houses, but I couldn't place it. I had my arms wrapped tight around my middle, holding my insides in since I was afraid with every passing moment I would let their contents spill. You wouldn't look at me, but you kept talking. For the first time ever, I wished you would stop. You were telling me that you could never love me and I was completely aware that I had already foolishly followed you in too deep and now you were letting me know that you had been drowning for years. You were promising to take me und
we don't sound like a whisper.The sun never sets over the water, but you still take me there whenever dusk comes to meet the horizon. We sit out on the rocks with me tucked tight against your chest, while you count stars like other people count blessings, but we're only half lucky with all these city lights ruining your chances. I know you're tired, love, but I'm terrified. I'm running out of ways to stop myself from telling you I miss you because twenty four hours isn't a long time to be separated and I'm really just more afraid of what you're doing when I'm not there -- and of what you're thinking when I am. I've been burnt enough times before to learn that loving with only half your heart will save you from the fire, but I know that's not what I'm doing here. I don't want you to be a mistake worth making. I want this to be real this time.we don't sound like a whisper.2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I keep playing out all the ways you could hurt me in my head, not because I think you will, but because it'll sting less if it actually happens. I've learned to prepare myself
these are the last things i'll say before i'm goneIf I had to give a name to what I'm feeling I would just call it disappearing. Because it's exactly like the way that you can know everything about someone one day and nothing the next. It's the quick death love has that leaves you wanting more or wanting it back in the best and worst of ways.these are the last things i'll say before i'm gone2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
If I had to explain I would say this feeling is something like standing outside of your door at four in the morning, even though I know I shouldn't be here, wearing the same wrinkled clothes I had on the day before, wanting nothing more than to beg to come home, but knowing better, because following the motions isn't really the best follow through.
I won't admit how much I miss you I can't, but I can tell you this.
The thing about disappearing is that it doesn't stop me from wanting to be completely impossible to forget. And maybe that's a bit of an anomaly, but I've never made much sense to begin with anyway.
And sure, we're all different in the same ways, but I want to be differen