Burning In The Morningi feel like being angry andBurning In The Morning4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
periodically i get
flashes of a heat that
singes my split ends and
makes it hard to breathe because
i don't do well with madness
although i'm always mad [in a
sense, my darling] but
anger? anger? i've never
felt this anger, not like this
usually so complacent so heartfelt
so soft i'm so soft, i'm
i'm pathetic and i'm tempted to
kiss embers into your esophagus.
i'm pathetic and i'm temped to
murder you with my fiery love/hate.
oh, but hate is too strong of a word
to be used on a firefly such as yourself.
june.I think it's your birthday today.june.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I should be certain but sometimes
it seems as though everyone was
born in June
and it makes me wonder
what happened in October '89
that had everyone making love.
I don't know about '89 but
in 2009 you were the glue mending
my broken excuse for a heart,
the breath in my every laugh.
I was addicted to your logical, reassuring mind
and ever-present promise of hope.
I was addicted to being needed,
to keeping all the secrets tearing you apart.
I miss being your turquoise terminator
and crumpled crumpet and saucy salamander
and effervescent iguana.
I miss complaining and over sharing
and knowing you'd listen to it all.
I miss believing we'd have that love forever.
So maybe I'll say happy birthday
and we can keep pretending nothing is wrong.
Or I'll pretend I forgot, the same way you forgot mine.
Or I'll congratulate you-
twenty-one years old
and still too thick to see how you've broken my heart.
Southern Belle with a LispYou have large compass eyesSouthern Belle with a Lisp4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and a bad habit
of losing your balance
and getting in over your head.
I like to watch you drown
at the bubbles you leave behind.
"There goes the boy
I never got a chance to know,"
"wrapped up in idle dreams
and faded blue-jean summer glory."
I write your eulogy
across the lines on my palm
as the steam of my breath rises
and dying-you whispers,
"Once. Twice. Three times and I'm gone."
You were always lost to me
but I make promises,
as you get swept up in the waves,
to tell everybody differently.
They don't have to know
that I only saw you just one night,
that I only loved you for an hour,
that I only remember you
and your Kentucky country-boy accent
when it rains.
DancingI can't dance, Dreamgirl. Did you know that?Dancing4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I think Novembers will always hurt the most, unless maybe I meet you on the seventh or the fifth or your birthday falls around that time. That might be okay, I think. But I will always think differently in November.
Explain this, please:
It is December and cold and bright and perfect. It smells like woodsmoke and snow in the clouds and when she steps outside, she takes a deep, deep breath. But the air is too cold for her scarred insides and she starts to cough uncontrollably. Why doesn't she remember that cold air makes her lungs tight?
Maybe she pretends not to remember. Or maybe she is preoccupied because she is thinking of last month and how she can't breathe. But it was warm in November. Warmer than last year. The scars were quieter, but that could have been because of you, actually.
She draws a second, careful breath and cinches her coat more tightly around her. She glares sullenly at the cheery winter sky and it glows back, making h
The water on their scales.At the bottom of the seaThe water on their scales.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
where the waves can't touch
and the sun doesn't hit
and the divers can't hold their breaths long enough to reach,
mermaids flip their fins
and sculpt hair combs out of seashells
and warble desperate love songs the world will never hear.
Wind sweptI'm raging against the wind,Wind swept3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I need someone
to take my hand - hold me down,
I'm afraid to be swept away,
far from everything I love,
I'm as light as a feather,
and if I just stand on my toes
the wind will take me,
the wind howls, the wind yells,
I exhaust myself with it,
no one is there to protect me
from the wind,
the echoes inside my ribcage,
the only thing anchoring me
is the promise
of not flying away - yet.
SuffocatingAnd babe, the truth is,Suffocating2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'm just the landfill you dump
your bad days into.
Holiday Themed and Everythingi triedHoliday Themed and Everything3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
spiced chai tea today
but it was
the fake kind,
not the real tea and
reminded me of you
you're as fake as they come
kind of good.
I'm Keeping Youyou say this sounds likeI'm Keeping You4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a bad time
but i think this is the best time;
the best time for you to see who i really am,
who i become in the instant the wolves aren't looking
and who i am when i can't be me much longer.
don't be afraid if you find me with a colorful
drink that reeks of Russia and a slash of a bro/ken
smile: it's me, and i'm still here, but i'm
just trying to survive in a torn-up world.
Hey, Mr. Mailman.Mr. MachoHey, Mr. Mailman.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
with your tight pony-tail hair
and your disgruntled
Who are you trying to kid?
Life is worth more
than the six-pack of Bud Light
you're carrying under your arm.
Go out and live it.
Burning hope brightly.Hours before dawn,Burning hope brightly.4 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
the front step feels like losing.
One kiss ignites hope.
Want to weave a fantasy worldI want to build forts from sheetsWant to weave a fantasy world3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(I was never allowed)
in your room and let you find me
when you get home,
I want to giggle all night
with a lamp and a comic or story,
maybe with some shadow play,
in a tent - indoors,
I want to make snow angels
in the middle of the night,
because I can - it has snowed,
I want to see a unicorn
and let her lay her head
in my lap - I wouldn't tell anyone
(I might whisper),
I want to dance around
in the rain, in the snow,
in the moment
and hear you laugh - so close,
I want to build castles
and be swept away by
evil but kind hearted princes
I want to jump in piles of leaves
and make them fly far -
just like birds,
I want to believe in fairies
that there's something
behind the curtain that I can't see,
I want the fairytales,
forever and a thousand nights more.
The Spelling of Usall about us was not all about you orThe Spelling of Us4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
me or the dog but it was all about us and
how i felt whole in your arms and nowhere else
and your wings wanted more than Russian aerospace
and we would consistently ask each other the same
but we knew GOD we knew
that life would never be the same without
i just wish that you didn't have to come first
because then we might have outlasted the only syllable.
easy bruisesmy heart, you leap tooeasy bruises4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
quickly at too-small
Dining on dead husbands.On silver threads,Dining on dead husbands.4 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
a widow feasts--
Love like the ocean.Hearts race like mustangs,Love like the ocean.4 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
cold fingers not as painful
as fears of goodbye.
Making this a habit.Tomorrow, we willMaking this a habit.4 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
admit our faults and, alone ,
I SeeI'm gifted.I See4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I see beyond
I see beyond
Whispering LaceWear your scars like Sunday's best lace; too fewWhispering Lace3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
ears have heard you crying over love's dusty grave. I
eavesdrop on your silent apologies and wide-eyed screams; all
promises He made to stick around fall from lying lips like a scandal.
Is this what you wanted, smeared mascara and heartache to go?
New beginnings have a price; if you wanted to follow
God into the clouds, you bet wrong. God's a loss.
F A L LA moist scent flies over the streets,F A L L4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the fragile gold fall, get caught
in the winds,
a nervous hand clutches another,
gloveless and warm
despite the rain,
the sky paints with grey,
while the asphalt points the way
to Oz; I think it's fall.
These Concrete Walls Hide SecretsI dreamed I died last night.These Concrete Walls Hide Secrets3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The Reaper welcomed me with open arms,
slipping through my window
silhouetted by the moon
and filling my lungs slowly.
with tears on my cheeks
and a sob
caught at the back of my throat,
my white shirt
plastered with sweat.
if the needle
will feel anything like drowning...
but death row
Pulling the curtain closed.Take a bow for me,Pulling the curtain closed.4 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
honey. Tonight, the moon sets
on my wounded pride.
Conversations in the Rain"At least put up your umbrella. Seriouslyyou'll catch your death out here,"Conversations in the Rain4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I turn to look at her, give her a withering look, and turn away. I lift and relax my shoulder blades, settling my jacket more snugly about me. The raindrops that cling to the water-resistant fabric scatter with the movement and, for a moment, I'm surrounded by a silvery halo. Then the little droplets fall and burst against the pavement at my feet, and the moment's gone.
There's an umbrella in my pack, of course. I should use it, probably. It's an old wives' tale that getting cold and wet will make you sick, but I'd never been able to convince her of that. She was always stubborn that way.
She frowns disapprovingly now. "I'm not impressed by this, you know. I don't know what you think you're doing, but we both know you should get inside,"
I look at the ground for a second. The rain has plastered my hair to my face and neck, and when I look up, she reaches out to peel an errant curl from where it's settled
Hummingbird WingsI have a secret:Hummingbird Wings2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'm on to you.
The weight of your voice
reminds me of hummingbird wings
and I can't stand
the way you twirl your hair.
It's not a ribbon
or a shoelace
or an earring;
and look at me!
The purse of your lips
when you're angry
makes me think
of my grandmother's disapproval,
and I detest
the way you hold yourself
like you know something
the rest of us don't.
Like you know the destiny
you're being led to
and you're just waiting
for it to make the first move.