i am an ocean nothing floats on.i am an ocean that nothing floats on.
her mother always told her that each part of her body was capable of becoming something hard and cold, something that a military man could arm himself with and leave a trail of destruction. There was an anchor in the pit of her stomach, resting on the bottom of a black and white ocean, carelessly tossed in by a reckless boy with matching eyes. it leads her to somewhere she has never been. It sinks her to ocean floor and leaves her waiting for the waves to stir her back to the surface.she learned about space, and the gaps that leave people feeling empty and lonely, and throughout the years of her youth, everything related back to the ocean residing inside her chest cavity which on the coldest and emptiest nights she could feel thrash and peak and cause her to choke and spit it up in violent convulsions. she learned that her stomach acids were responsible for the curve of her bones and the shapes of the shadows they made in sunlight. as her years tic
mapping the ache.She learned anatomy when he broke her heart. She liked how she could track the stinging, burning pain as it delved deeper into her. Starting in her throat, a heavy lump that wouldn't move anymore than a cm a day. it would travel through her veins, like back lanes, leaving behind big clouds of exhaust fumes that make her skin tarnish, and her blood thicken. the pain, gets a little stronger. moves a little further. with her bones structure mapped and blown up on the wall across from her bed, she woke up each morning, and closed her eyes. she sat quiet and still with breath held, trying to pinpoint the pain. she'd trace the wall and place a small gold star where is had reached that day. it was quite beautiful really. this skeletal system, scattered with little stars. her own constellation.mapping the ache.4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
it was a realisation that everything can be traced back to her heart. it beats and bleeds and aches and yearns and everything it feels is shot through your synapses and
clouded up.One day they all just stopped.clouded up.4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The clouds in her chest dispersed and she couldn't let her fingers spin delicate stories like she once would when her heart felt too heavy. She could still imagine all the scenes that would leave her throat tight, the highways that sliced through forests and oceans that weren't as beautiful as everyone kept telling her. There was a kind of distance that she couldn't ever comprehend. Lovers complain about having mountains between them, and of waking to dial-tones and message banks. No-one ever tells of the loved one who is around the corner, barricaded by nothing but their own darkness and heaviness. There are some things that no-one ever talks about. Her mother taught her there are some kinds of sadness that you can't get out in a way that's comprehensible. She taught Screaming into pillows, writing mantras on your arms, and drinking your body weight in warm tea can lessen the ache though. At least until the words flow aga
human hibernation.i wish i could say it rained the day we gave you back to the earth, that even the heavens were crying for you. it didn't though. it was 28 degrees and our black coats of grief were heavy in so many ways. it felt unfair, and i wasn't ready to let you go just yet, if i could have put myself in the wretched box i would have in a heartbeat. the cliches were in full force that day, and i didn't care for a minute. all i knew is the earth, or god, or whoever took you from me better be grateful to have you back.human hibernation.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
there was something in my stomach that day, a knot, a twist, something that felt wrong and out of place from the second i opened my eyes that morning. my boots were heavier than usual, and i just couldn't shake this shadow that seemed to be following me. my mind sorted through the usual excuses; is the oven off? did i lock the cat in accidentally? oh shit, the garbage that must be it.
i wish now it was just the cat inside the house, the worst thing i would have had to deal with then wa
Such Great Heightsboy,Such Great Heights4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
if our hearts
are shaped like trees
with endless flowing roots.
can we let them tangle.
together deep in the
and if our eyes
are rippled like the surface
of the ocean
can they be the gentle
tide that carries
me back to you?
playing hopscotch with death.i.playing hopscotch with death.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
she lay outstretched on the surface
the frozen pond, hoping that
the ice would crack and submerge
her into the icy waters.
and as the ice split and she fell
through into the black water,
instincts come to the rescue and she
emerged blue and purple but alive.
she danced and tippy-toed around
her kitchen, spilling kerosene in her path
then struck the match, hoping the flames
would engulf her in this roaring inferno.
and as the flames raged through the day
and into the night, making the house glow amber.
and somehow she walked out
she twirled around on the dew covered
grass until her head was spinning and
the world was a blur, hoping that gravity
would push her to the ground with a sickening thud.
and as her head collided with the soft earth
her eyes rolled back into
their sockets and her lips turned blue ashen
but she continued to breathe.
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.4 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
breathe deep.i am letting you go.breathe deep.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
not in any grand symbolic gesture
or split second epiphany.
it will be quiet
and i will hold my breath.
you will no longer rule my heart.
or haunt my bones
time and space.It was a Tuesday when she hit the age she always thought would be the day she felt old, ticking past her teenage years, and into the old-enough-to-know-betters/young-enough-not-to-care age. It rained the day she blew out twenty three candles, and she had never had a wish come true, at least not one that didn't turn sour not long after, anyway. She laughed with the people around her, and drank wine like a mature young lady, despite the clouds she could feel forming in her ribcage. She wanted to know if this was what ageing felt like, if this was how all her birthdays would feel like from this one forward. She knew what the clouds were, and she knew it wasn't anything she needed to dwell on any more than she already had. Her birthday wasn't about to become a pity party, and no-one was going to cry today.time and space.3 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Mother dearest had too much to drink, and toast after toast rolled out, spilling embarrassing childhood memories leaving her cheeks ever-red and her eyes resting in the palms of hands hi
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.3 years 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
all fell to the groundHe wrote each feeling on the insides of his arms, sinking it into his blood stream. Most days, it would be a list trailing down his arm, each one crossed out with red pen, leading onto the next. On his first day of school the list looked like this.all fell to the ground3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
He liked the way the ink letters would bleed into each other and eventually become illegible, and by that point that's usually how he felt. The red would seep and emphasise the tangle, and it would take a little-too-hot shower to wash it off.
[the stain was still inside him though, and the shower didn't even begin to remove that].
Some days, the list would be just one feeling written over and over again., thicker and thicker as the feelings deepened and darkened. Like the day that he just called 'the worst day'. There was only one feeling on his arm, and it was written so many times in the same place that he couldn't tell where the broken skin and the red ink separat
the day the earth fell of its axis.i) she let her fingers run along the edges of the paper, creasing and pleating and folding until the printed square came to life.the day the earth fell of its axis.3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
she created all of the delicate cranes with the utmost of care and precision, each paper bird represented so much, each subtle wrinkle containing and with holding so much passion and strength. to most of the others, they were just making them because the teacher had told them to, to help those who have lost so much, but not her. her cupid bow lips were pursed tightly, and her eyes were salt water swollen. they weren't just cranes, they were a sign of hope.
ii) he woke up, covered in sweat and breathing heavy.
another night terror. they'd become a regular occurrence since what they refer to as "the day the earth fell of its axis". they called it this because the violent tremors were so strong It felt like the earth had snapped of its orbit and spun viciously around till it all just stopped. the images wer
patchworkI really don't sleep enough.patchwork4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I don't know what's me anymore and what
Ive invented and wore for so long I cant tell where I start and the skin begins.
I am pathetic.
timid.she grew up laced in a dreamlike state. her mother would tell her fairy-tales, and she would sit there, wide eyed and listening to everything her mother had to say with the utmost interest. she was told about a girl, who lived in a tall tower, awaiting a prince to come and save her, and another who was asleep and someone handsome kisses her and she's whooshed back to the real world and all lives happily ever after. she was always told that the pretty girl finds love, and banishes the lesser ones, and the evil ones.timid.4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
when she was nine, she first learned about forest creatures, and how they are gentle to some strangers. deer can become fond of people and even allow them to touch them. she was astounded by this, and could be found with her little nose buried deep in books about animals desperate to have a little fawn all of her own. her mother noticed she was creeping into a world that wasn't real, and she encouraged it. her 10th birthday was in the forest a few miles from her house, and s
not the right one.she lets the water run over hernot the right one.4 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
she turns the tap again and again
and the water gets hotter and she can she see her skin blister and the room fill with steam,
yet she still feels so so so cold.
the memories cannot escape her
she sees a blackened silhouette behind the semi opaque curtain.
but its just Charlie.
she sighs, and lets the water run over her,
hoping eventually she'll just
a lack of colour.when she was nine she felt her heart explode for the first time. it wasn't enough to splinter or shatter anything, but it left dents, craters along the walls of her chest. when she inhaled she could feel each breath catch on the rough edges of the reformed terrain, and she learned that her body was a landscape, shifting and changing constantly. and she was only 13 the time her first an earthquake erupted from the depths between her hips, she knew that she wasn't going to stay like this for much longer. there was something higher than her that would play her like a puppet, moulding her with unseen hands, turning her flats into mountains, and her small frame into something that wider and more womanly.a lack of colour.4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
it was winter when she first fell for something out her control, and for her it the way she could pick up a stone in her freshly hardened palms, and feel the weight and be grounded. she could throw it through the wind and it would slice through the wind, det
glitter.you wrote me love letters from the passenger seat,glitter.7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
pressing stars to my eyelids and hearts to my forehead.
you wrote me lies.
like the summer months, you never stick around long enough to make a lasting impression.
winter always takes over, cold
fingertips washing away all past evidence of the blistering friction once there.
(the only way I made it through was remembering that
youre only another calendar away; that youll come back.
I dont think Ill make it through this time.)
Id write you every word in the french-english dictionary if only one would spark a memory.
you seem unable to reminisce and incapable of nostalgia.
(really, I think theyre powers you passed onto me, increasing mine tenfold.)
youre like something acidic, burning in my throat.
but all the way down, youre smoldering the word
you held me close with trembling hands,
telling me how I was your living reincarnation of
these oceanic arteries are killing me.i'm drawn to the ocean in a way that's anything but beautiful. i don't want a welcome embrace, i just want it to consume me. 'cause the ocean is so heavy and right now i'm so fucking fragile.these oceanic arteries are killing me.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
so i'll stand waist deep with the water curling tightly around me, lulling me further from the shore with the safe sung whispers of the wind as i let the waves crash into me. so that with each ebb and flow, piece by piece, the ocean can wash me away from you.
i can see myself crumbling away like the cliffs that surround the peaceful waters, and i wonder if your as fragile as i am right now. my breathing patterns have changed, as i don't want to be anything like you at all ever again.
it's not anything i'm proud of -- the way our worlds shifted and turned and collided to make the currents wash up on these shores with each of us standing at opposite ends of this expanse of water with no hope, no reason, no love, but it's the way things turned out. and now i should know better than to change everythi
true lieshis eyes looked at me with disdain. i thought that once i had broken through his barriers his eyes would smile and his laughter would ring through every fibre of my body and that his cheeks would glow. instead all i felt was a greater coldness. except now it wasn't just a general feeling- it was directed very pointedly at me.true lies4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"you're not who i thought you were," he growled through clenched teeth. his words left me feeling that he wanted to say something angrier, something more malicious but he held back. even when his defences were down he was still calculated.
do you think that maybe you never knew me? that you built up an ideal image of someone unattainable yet appropriate for you? i pleaded with my eyes. but it was no use. he wouldn't even look at me. he knew, he finally knew, that he had built me up to that ideal because he felt it would be everything he deserved. now he saw, or rather didn't want to see, that he really didn't deserve it at all. ideal or not- he didn
peaking.she has too many old flames that are threatening to set fire to the kindling of her ribcage, leaving her tongue stinging, and her words coming out as puffs of smoke. she never was one to understand how to extinguish something as bright and powerful as fire. it scared her, more than she ever would admit to anyone but the ghosts that would come to her at night. for someone with fire in her fingertips, she was so at home amongst the heights of the evergreens. she wished that anything about her was that stable. everlasting, and unchanging.peaking.4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
her heart was a fawn, easily startled and quick to flee, never staying in one place for long, and never letting anything get too close. closeness means risking getting hurt. however, no-one ever told her that the loneliness of solitude hurts too. she learned there were so many varying pains, each one as different as the seasons that rolled and changed. most seasons brought on a different pain.
in summer she was born from the ocean, with freckles scatteri
burning in your heartplease understand that i have wanderlust for reasons that is anything but lovely or beautiful. i am too heavy on the inside, and my outside is starting to split but this heaviness has a name and a physical being and i can't help but want to put as much distance between us as we can until he's not down the road and i can't reach him even if i wanted to.burning in your heart3 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
but it's probably because i still want to and i find desire caressing my finger tips with alpine nectar and breathing on my neck with the heat of the sahara. maybe wanderlust is just not wanting you.
theres no way its that simple, that i could catch a train or fly as far away as all my savings could take me and fall in love with new curves, new arches to memorize and erase yours. or maybe i could just get so lost that i don't know anything anymore. forgetting myself means forgetting you.
i hope you know you were a product of this too. i found you twelve decades ago in my head, when i wanted new springs to taste and found a lullaby i
i should have never loved you.in that one moment, i wanted to stand up and hit him: i wanted to make him hurt, make him bleed, make him feel what he did to me. make him feel his lies and deceit, push it into his skin like a knife and letting the scarlet lies pour out for everyone to see.i should have never loved you.4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
every little lie, every "mia bella" came back to haunt me. every word that idly dripped out of his mouth that caressed and cared for me turned black and shriveled like a dead flower.
because every time he kissed me, he lied.
i can't believe i just let him string me along like that. he just turned me into some sort of flesh-and-blood puppet, tossed me around and stepped on me like garbage put on the curb for tuesday night pickup. he put me in a plastic bag with old coffee grounds and used condoms from a night when i wasn't there.
i should have never loved him.
trauma.she had tried to resuscitate him,trauma.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
pushing against his resisting chest
even after she had broken all his ribs
and had his blood covering her hands.
welcome to the darknesslike spectres on a blank white wallwelcome to the darkness4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
thoughts of you distract me, constantly
from living and loving and loneliness
in some sick and twisted and mortal and human way
these thoughts are both the most comforting
and most heart breaking moments i hold on to
what a fool i am seeing the darkness as light
what a fool for falling prey to such a petty illusion,
a slight of hand
"holding on is the only way i can let go", i tell myself
"holding on pushes you away more and more", i tell myself
"holding on is such a waste of fucking life."