Paper MutantMy hands are raw and full of paper cuts today.
Grandmama had given me a book about origami, but my fingers are too small and clumsy with the paper. Instead of birds, flowers, butterflies, and stars I had mushed together monstrosities that didn't resemble anything beautiful. I swam in a sea of wadded paper that evening and I felt terrible. Mother had told me I was wasting my time. Grandmama told her that all the lessons we need are etched into our hands.
"Why can't I do it, Grandmama?"
"Of course you can do it, haven't you been practicing?"
I sighed and pointed to the mess in my room, papers slipping between floorboards and hiding beneath piles of clothes. They didn't want her to see my failure. She didn't say anything as she took the horrible book from my dresser.
"Where are you going?"
"To bring the book back of course," her teal shoes shuffled past half-folded stars, making their way to my door.
"It's not the book!" I reached out for it, as if I had loved it with everything my
Fostering HatredAlideya was going crazy and Cal didn't know how to help her.Fostering Hatred1 month ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Cal remembered back to this morning, when the Fosters came to his door. They looked more like they were there to beat him then give him any kind of news. There's been an accident at the factory, please have your parents report to Saint Felia's Hospital, Wing B as soon as they return home. The curt thank you at the end was like a lash across his face. The eerie politeness meant one thing, something terrible had happened.
He had pleaded for more information, but the men gave him no further answers as they walked down the cobbled path and back to their posts. They didn't care what happened to some seventeen year old girl, they weren't programmed to. Fear placing careful lines across his face, Cal turned back into the house.
He began scrawling out a note to his parents explaining what had happened before leaving both of his parents messages with as calm a voice as he could. Then he ran. Bursting into the B wing of Saint Fe
Before I Even Met YouHe built me a house out of willow bones. I didn't know how to thank him, so instead of smiling I said "We speak with different hopes," I pretended like his laugh could make me smile, make me forget the ridges in his palms were like severed river beds.Before I Even Met You2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Of course we do."
"You're never serious."
"Only about you."
"You joke too much"
His embrace was erratically cold. Irony didn't begin to describe it. I guess you loose warmth with age. Or maybe it's with lies. I may never know.
Winter curled up inside his eyes as we stood with our toes pressing against the first steps of the run-down church.
"We don't have to go inside."
"I could describe it to you."
"Grand tour, remember?"
A hollow wind began grappling at his lips while we climbed the short flight of stairs. He spoke but I couldn't make out the words, I was feeling dreadful for even thinking of returning here, again.
"Stop feeling bad. I like coming back here."
We Will Never Be PerfectA dilapidated, small house--a single light is on inside, barely illuminating the silhouettes of hunched over figures. DANIEL, a some-what well-dressed man is at the door, obviously out of place with his ragged surroundings. He seems fidgety and agitated. Someone opens the door on the inside; Daniel walks in.We Will Never Be Perfect4 years ago in Screenplay More Like This
A woman, NICOLE, is smoking something indistinguishable while sitting next to an open window. Two people are sitting off in a corner, another is strewn about in the hallway. Two others can be heard giggling in an adjacent room, just out of sight. Daniel stands in the door way and looks down the hall to Nicole, she is close enough to speak too.
"Sometimes, I know you don't love me."
(He flashes her an insincere smile as he begins to walk towards her.)
You aren't always faithful yourself. (She pauses.) Just ask your wife about Cheryl or Lauren.
"They were a mistake."
Unlove MeHe looked at me, with those oblong eyes of his, and said, "Sarah, I don't think I love you anymore."Unlove Me5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
I didn't move and I'm pretty sure I didn't blink. I just stood there, expressionless, while looking at the half-chopped carrots in front of me.
"You know, it's going to rain tonight," I said, my fingers re-clutching the knife and continuing to chop the carrots.
He looked at me, with those malachite eyes of his, and said:
"You're not yourself anymore. I..."
"Josh, can you hand me that pan?"
Red. I try my best to scrape away every last ounce of the colour. It's everywhere. I know he wouldn't like it if his parents came over and the house was filthy. He hated that.
"I'll have to change," I said looking at my dress, covered in orange and red.
VigilantI heard the waves crash upon the sandy shores and the screams of mothers and children. I could feel the panic seep through their bones in the form of violent raindrops and wailing winds. I listen as I hear the breaking of boards and houses. The sloshing of mud as it hits furniture and peoples legs.Vigilant5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
The water is cold. Actually it's just a little chilly. Like the first steps one would take into the ocean. I'm soaking. If I had bones I know they would be soaked as well. But my stuffing is the only thing that feels soggy now.
I wish I could sit up straighter. I can't quite see over some of the debris that liters the ground. It's a horrible sight and every so often I see eyes, like mine, starring back at me. Not completely lifeless, but unanimated. Unable to see but aware.
Eyes that scream, that beg, that cry endless and invisible tears. A sadness that calls to the birds that circle overheard. Hungry. Gnarled. Wretched birds. I see the greed in their eyes, just as the men that scavenge the
Icebound DevotionFlame frozen forever encasedIcebound Devotion4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Ice crystals melt within it's heat
But manages to stay its shape.
Frosted wasteland devoid of life.
See how easy it is to weave a web
Of illusion with lies?
I've painted a picture you see as truth.
Not one part did you question
And you say I can't fool you.
I am the greatest deceiver
Against me you stand no chance.
I've been feeding you lines from first glance.
Let's play hide-and-seek with land mines
sprinkled across your ramshackle front porch.
Oblivion goes on for miles; you're
still willing to submerge into my deceit.
I'll cover you like a wanning blizzard
appendages only half frozen,
mouth still trembling with unthawed words.
Once, I told you that my love isnt real;
I consist of summery glaciers
that never erode quite enough.
I stand solid, block of ice
Your so called warming smile
Can't even fracture my cube of petrification.
Snow flakes fall in desperation
From the chunk of sleet I reside in.
Even time cannot thaw my prison.
Your pitiful attemp
The Tails of Falling StarsShe was awestruck by the backs of moons that wereThe Tails of Falling Stars4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
too far away to see with her unaided ocean eyes;
her petal fingers lace around the necks of stars.
Tracing their distant narrative, she becomes
an oracle, picking at Castor and Pollux;
the innards of sacrificial lamb becoming
the threshold of her prophetic quasar.
Always in search for the answers
that remain as churning syllables,
rotting at the bottom of her myrtle lungs.
She harvests the tree-branch limbs of galaxies,
to appraise the fruits of fate;
calculating the depths of nebulae, nuances of flesh.
She remembers how she grew to fear space.
Affliction of GravityWe were spinning in a violent orbit,Affliction of Gravity4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
fragments against a time continuum,
with the shock signals of past events
coursing through our brain waves
and hovering away into unwanted space.
Your spiral fingers clutched twenty-two street lights,
coalescing them into supernovae
to gather their unseen veils of jade.
Our feet, skittering across the worn concrete,
were blazing a new trail of the universe.
The pale glass panels of the skyscrapers
showered down small meteorites,
illumination for our blind and careless eyes.
We'd point to buildings that grazed each star
off sideways perches made from skeleton clouds;
then I'd trill my laugh off sidewalk chalk.
I wanted our love to be like a hurricane on Neptune,
fiercer than Earths fizzing clouds
but dim enough so Galileo only pauses for us.
You wanted our love to be a shooting constellation,
furious and wild at the surface, brightly ablaze
until the gases stopped billowing, the spark diminishing.
There would be no trace of us left on the map.
Translating the DifferenceSing to me songs in languages I do not understand.Translating the Difference2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Let me pretend I speak them fluently, their letters stumbling leaves
and I will catch them,
whispering new life into each foreign syllable.
When I repeat after you, they will still hold sway
with each rise and fall.
It will be sunset and sunrise, a collaboration of undertones
pulled together by circuits of moonlight.
Perhaps my translation will speak more to you
from the backs of seabirds, spilling across their beaks.
I will not become a spider,
legs aching from spinning, spinning, and spinning
every phrase you divulge to me.
Each sound will be stretched across a nebula,
my werewolf words becoming our mantra.
When this is over, we will understand each other.
imaginary conversations I“But it’s not like you just say, ‘oh, you have the attributes which I seek in a mate, so I will now proceed to fall in love with you.’ You can’t turn love on and off like flipping a switch. It doesn't work like that.”imaginary conversations I7 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
“In a way, it does, though. Because any kind of real love—not a crush or an infatuation: real, deep, lasting love—centres around a similarity in the core of their being and the core of yours. You have to have a reason to love someone—to really love someone, I mean—whether it be their integrity or fortitude or kindness or intelligence or something else entirely. And if you find out that that person isn't who you thought they were—if they change, or you learn that you were mistaken—well, it’s sort of like if the sun suddenly disappeared. You can only go on orbiting empty space for about eight minutes or so before the whole thing collapses.”
Autopsy SighGhosts passed,Autopsy Sigh6 months ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
holding on and moving
fixing what is wrong and
her death but,
I would be much happier living if
we pause here.
I miss her even now.
Of A Cavity In My MemoryI used to have a nameOf A Cavity In My Memory6 months ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
molding my every fiber, rearranging
make me free
and still, still
I am so lost.
to move forward --
the only thing:
I will wake up dead.
Periwinkle laces will save her.Breaking in new shoes was hard. Willow didn't like that. It was so much easier to slip inside the imprints of someone else, to contort her way into the soles of their life. She lived up to her name, becoming willowy: bending and shifting as if she was always set against a breeze. She thought it only fitting that toe-marked shoes were the best fit for her because of this.Periwinkle laces will save her.10 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
Her mother would always sigh whenever she found Willow grasping onto last year's pair of shoes. Sweetie, you have new ones. You don't have to keep those. This time Willow had left her old shoes at home, deciding that perhaps her new shoes deserved a chance at an adventure. Or at least as much adventure one could have while walking to the local park.
She dodged the occasional crumpled leaf that pounced at her from the trees along the sidewalk. The playground always looked the most beautiful with that extra bit of sunlight from when the trees began to undress for the winter. A flutter of air sought out every crevi
Of Half-Filled WordsShe is not a flutterbird.Of Half-Filled Words2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Her fingers are skittish,
her smile is not.
Do not fear that you will
drive it away.
Sadness is her fumbling limb.
It is unwanted, yet
When it is January
she will tell you,
"I am still struggling.
And I am becoming so many people
all at once.
A conglomeration of beauty that
I have managed to mangle.
Please, do not be sad for me."
Sometimes her sorrow is
meant for you. But mostly her.
Those specks and spots
of ocean storm lulls
reveal her truths:
ones she does not want
to extract from herself.
Her heart is not a rabbit.
When it beats
faster, faster, faster,
you need not
run harder to catch it.
Seabound StarsShe negates nebulae, calling comets to diveSeabound Stars1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
beneath breathless waves while she begins sectioning stardust
inside her rib's ravines; harpsichord hipbones
plucked for promises with faulty fingertips. Cyclones
rain rage at gaunt galaxies. She postpones
her haunting to tangle my tether, this is the hardest
leaking lungs have labored to allow her to thrive.
Salted fingertips pluck at his
seaweed hair, trying to mimic the
sound of the ocean at
sunrise. The boy with
sea-scape eyes, black and dark,
scared but cruel
stands inside the ocean's heart at sunset.
Unending folds of sky are stolen; by his sea-soaked hands
and he wrings its last breath. Her most beloved constellation
begins speaking with the flickering of heartbeats. He stops.
The last of your kind,
with the solar flare of hope.
I am a black hole.
She shields herself beneath his froth,
tamed fingers reach forward to grasp at light,
as if the sun had a body she could hold.
He places her cosmic hands
into the watery clust
This, TooI point to the hair on my knuckleThis, Too2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
and you say, “yes, this, too, I love.”
It is longer than the year before, curling
a little farther from my body. I say so
and you say, "I know."
I pull it out to two options: am I angry
that you saw my body betraying youth,
that first little slide, and did not tell me?
Or, do I pat your rounding belly and say,
“yes, this, too, I love.”
Accidentat the corner of boone trails and owenAccident1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
she learned the brevity of flight:
glinting bumper for launch pad
trajectory approximately 5 feet
across the median.
as proud, as swift
as any prima ballerina
but the landing
this I keep for her -
the listless weight of limbs
defying gravity, the beastly beauty
of a body bouyant before
Chameleon Smiles"I always wanted matching straight jackets," she said, pressing her minuscule fingertips against the bent backs of dandelions and clovers. I only managed to blink back the laughter because even though she smiled lovingly at the sky, her eyes said "sometimes-I-think-I-belong-in-one."Chameleon Smiles5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
"Don't be ridiculous," I say, leaning back onto the blanket of sun-worn grass.
She pouts with her all ready withered twenty two year old lips, "I'm not being ridiculous."
I smile and close my eyes as her innocence laden voice rambles on about why the sky really turns black--she is adamant that it's because a monster-star swallows up all the colours then spits them back in the morning. While the other stars are only there to avert suspicion by sparkling not-brightly-enough. I laugh and shake my head as her hands wash over my arm, trying to pull me into her descriptions. She never lets me forget how wrong about her I am.
"You could at least listen to me," I can imagine her rolling her eyes at me
Oceanic Love Does Not Mean ForeverI do not want you to tell meOceanic Love Does Not Mean Forever6 months ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
of crooked smiles and offshore
moonbeams woven with nightingale
words. You are living in
after memories. You have forgotten
I will live in a way that's unorthodox.
I only want for you
to be lonely and small,
but it's for your own good, you know.
Breathe it in, hold it in, hold yourself
between each of your heartbeats.
Change because some things are
like estranged runaways caught between
the tilt of the earth.
I was the ocean in you
and you didn't understand.
Broken Hearts Can Still Keep BeatingHis hands are not like yours.Broken Hearts Can Still Keep Beating7 months ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
like lace across glass; a
[a] black galaxy
made a memory of me.
He told me he felt
cast into chaos.
"A distant red dwarf--
A subtle kiss of stardust
felt like a promise
holding the world still
but even that
suddenly seemed made up.
I still don't know you.
Dandelion DaughterShe is my dandelion girl,Dandelion Daughter2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
a graceful, yellow weed
with puffs for hair.
She tells me she isn't
trying to be beautiful.
Her moonstone fingers
are braiding hopes and love
into the strands of her
hair as she idly chatters
of how the sun seems to
shine a little yellower
with you there.
She becomes something
exceptional, a garden
filled with starlight and
teacups. She will remind you
the sun is also a star and
that we often overlook
those closest to us.