Waiting for YouI don’t mind waiting for you. When you’re lonely, any meaningful conversation is worthwhile. Even the kind you have to wait an hour or two for. Maybe especially that kind. The kind you stay up late for, reading to pass the time, or constantly glancing at the clock, hoping. The kind you walk around the block a few times for, even in the cold. The kind you would have over tea if you could but you can’t because you’re both going home and you’re tired of the day but not of each other and, you know, one cup wouldn’t hurt.Waiting for You3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Paranoia 'There's no kindness in your eyes,Paranoia2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
the way you look at me it's just not right'
- Hilary Duff.
As I look over at you across the table, I can’t help but feel doubt creeping in from all sides. From the outside, our relationship is wonderful. You tell me that you love me every single day, you buy me flowers every week and you look after me better than I can look after myself. You even brought me to my favourite restaurant this evening as a surprise treat. I couldn’t ask for any more. You are everything I could possibly hope for. But yet, something is not right. A dark voice in the back of my mind keeps whispering: ‘Don’t be so blind’. I can’t help but feel that the interior of our relationship is not as perfect as the polished exterior. Something rotten is fester
Perfect Strangers -- Half LifeThey knocked on each side of the door at the same time, cautiously. They knocked again, confused. The door opened, tentatively.Perfect Strangers -- Half Life3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
They smiled at the same time, almost embarrassed by their synchronicity. But they weren’t. They would never admit it, but both of them were secretly glad they had found each other, a perfect stranger.
They spoke no words, so as not to ruin the effect. And, in return, no words found them. Their eyes drank in each other, greedily attempting to slake the unquenchable, before the door closed between them, slamming them each back into their own respective worlds.
They both knocked on the door from opposite sides, startled by the instant echo. One pushed, the other pulled, and the door was open.
They shared a synchronised smile; secretly pleased to have found each other, perfect strangers.
No words were spoken; no need to. They sought only to look.
They knocked on the same door, opened it at the same time, smiled the same smile. Silence helped slake thei
into the deepAudio version over thisaway.into the deep3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and the world will crumble, darling, but we will watch the stars--
watch the coasts curl up at the edges and the foam-slick sea drag them under
and history will bloom in brass and copper nebulas,
untainted by the tortured earth and its pleading
flecks of ash below.
but we will watch the stars
watch the galaxy unwind, spirals stringing out
the taste of ozone and plasticities.
the heaving sea will recede--the glaciers
pour their hearts out
the dunes rise up to the sated horizon.
will watch the stars.
and the hungering infernos hold no sympathy.
Simple WisdomThe old man's words swirledSimple Wisdom2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
around the room with the smoke
from his cigar.
"Well, since you asked,"
was coughed from his wizened
throat. "Save as much money
as you possibly can.
Don't buy cable. Read.
Write. A lot. Read some more.
Take pictures of extra ordinary things.
Print your pictures,
Handwrite all of your mail,
and lick the stamps yourself.
Travel the world, and
collect friends wherever you go.
Oh, and don't try to keep up
with the Jones. They will covet
your simplicity. Your resourcefulness.
Never listen to a bank
when they say you can afford
a certain sized house.
Divide that in half.
Okay, I'm done.
But you asked.
go to sleep."
travelersthis silvertongued landtravelers2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is fit for strange adventures
so we will roam as the city
sleeps, and the soft
of the camera shutter will lull the crickets
we will leave our trail
in incandescent flashes--
the negatives seared and crackling on
and drag our hearts on
moonshine wisps behind us--
gathering fog and scents and
strains of music
carried in on night-thin air.
the song of a roamerAnd darling, I've been gone for a long, long time. Your eyesthe song of a roamer3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
are still that steely gunpowder blue, but your hair has grown long,
and there's a softer curve to your waist
and freckles on your shoulder I don't remember,
and I think,
What have I missed?
You tell me about the weddings
the divorces. You tell me
about the babies
and the losses, and how last year
your dog died--easy, in his sleep--
and there is a hollow lack in you,
a space reserved for things that won't come back.
Long ago, was there a space like that
When did it collapse--when did it
fold in on itself
under the weight of things that matter more?
I tell you about Cambodia. I paint
the jungles for you, breathe the crushing wet heat
of it into your lungs. I tell you
about the kids in Africa
and how the heat is different there--
belligerent and fierce.
I tell you how much you would have liked Barbados,
and how much you would have hated Rome.
And I remember all the things I
can't tell you--all the things I don't hav
with thanks to frost Now with a reading.with thanks to frost2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
two roads diverged in a soulless dawn
and you pull over,
idling on the shoulder of route 50.
it's a polaroid morning and
the world is as grainy
as your eyes,
and one million miles
is not far enough.
it plays back, filmstrip,
blurred along the length of
and here you are:
facing a choice between
this loosejointed, hollowbodied
this is what