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losing a love and loving a lostSometimes you lose people, you know? Sometimes you lose someone you love, and they can't come back. They die on you, take a little piece of your heart with them, and they don't come back. Sometimes you lose someone you love and it breaks your heart, it claws at your lungs and it breaks through your chest and leaks through your pores, and you're practically fucking emanating sadness, but there's nothing you can do about it. You're stuck writing about it in stupidly long sentences because you don't know what else to do with this itch beneath your skin, and you need to fucking do something with it because it's going to eat you alive. The ache th

losing a love and loving a lost

by ~therainontheirparade in Emotional

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OCDI count the cracks in between the blocks of cement beneath me as I walk. Two. Two. Four. Four. Always four sets of that. Always two, two, four, four. Four times each. Look up. Blink 8 times. Two sets of four. Then back down. Two, two, four, four.

Safe. Those numbers are safe. Even, not odd. Odd is bad. 'Odd' is what people call you when you're different. Bad. Wrong.

Two, two, four, four. I try to focus on something else, not on how many steps I'm taking, because there are people behind me. Person. One set of footsteps. Bad. Half of two. I think of it as two feet, and that's better. I feel better.

I round a corner, looking for my goal. AlwaOCD9 months ago in Short Stories

I want.I want to map out the night sky on your body.

I want to find the constellations in your freckles,
And trace the shadows on your skin with the pads of my fingers.
I want to learn the way you breathe through my hands,
Feel your diaphragm collapse and expand under my palms.

I want to kiss down the knobs of your spine,
Until I have all of the dips in your back memorized.
I want to learn the secret of how you laugh,
And catch it before it gets the chance to escape.

I want you and your imperfections,
And I want it forever.I want.9 months ago in Free Verse

Enoughyou used me, you know
took me by the heart and swung me around as if I were a rag doll
as if I couldn't feel anything
as if it didn't even matter if I did

but it hurt, my god did it hurt
it ripped at my chest and pulled at my skin
and I hurt, I hurt so bad
but at least I knew that I loved.

I knew that I loved you enough
because it broke open my insides until they were a bleeding, broken mess
and my cheeks were stained with tears and makeup
my eyes were puffy and so, so dull
and you called me beautiful
you said I looked so beautiful like this
empty and vacant and battered
so I let you do it again and again and
again

you calleEnough5 months ago in Free Verse

Do not.Do not tell me that you love me,
It's not something I want to hear.
Do not tell me that you need me,
That you want to hold me dear--
To you chest, so I can hear your heart beat,
Do not once for a moment,
Think that I am incomplete.
I'm fine, thank you, without you,
Without anyone holding me back
I don't really need you,
You're not something that I lack.
I lack a stable heart, you see,
Mine's different from the rest.
It doesn't need some silly affection,
To bring out its best.
It doesn't have a best, I'd say,
If I may be so bold,
It's cracked and charred and hollow,
It leaves you numbly cold.
Do not tell me that you love mDo not.11 months ago in Free Verse

Fix You.I'll take your swollen eyes,
and I'll show them how to clear.

I'll take your broken smile,
and I'll give you one that's real.

I'll take your rampant mind,
and I'll coax it into stillness.

I'll take your scarred wrists,
And plant, on each, some kisses.

I'll take your shaky fingers,
and hold them steady in mine.

I'll take your shattered heart,
and heal it, over time.Fix You.10 months ago in Free Verse

I Think I Might Need YouI think I might need you

and the light that you bring

but I'm out of control and

I can't feel a thing.

I can't feel a thing

and it's making me sick

I think I might need you but

it's all just a trick

It's all just a trick

and alone here I'm sat

There's no one around and

it's cold in my flat

It's cold in my flat

and my knees keep on shaking

There're ghosts in the walls and

my heart keeps on breaking

My heart keeps on breaking

and it's sad that it's true

I think I might need you but

that's nothing new.I Think I Might Need You6 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms

i dream because it's nicer there i impress you in my dreams

talk you into shy smiles and sweaty palms

you watch me as if i'm something worth seeing,
something reputable and wonderful and good

you look at me like i hung the moon
and decorated the sky with the stars

and then

i

wake

up

and you barely know my namei dream because it's nicer there4 months ago in Free Verse

The Way The World WorksSelling yourself just to figure out who you are
You're lost between the pictures of paintings,
And none of them are real; nothing's real here except for the number of breaths you take
Nothing is real except the knobs of your spine, or the hollows in your hipbones.
You're pushing yourself on an empty tank, but there's nothing to fill you with
Nothing to curb the unquenchable desire of being whole
But you only know empty, you only have ever known empty
Like the sound the wind makes as it passes through the leaves
Or the way the young mother's pocket doesn't jingle when her child tugs on it
You don't know if being empty is a bad thing
The Way The World Works8 months ago in Free Verse

lapsus calamiyou're smooth, you know
all soft skin and and long fingers,
cupping my cranium and sliding through
the tendrils of my hair

everything about you screams dangerous,
the way your smile starts--
languid and lazy because
your lips speak in secrets
passed through dry presses of mouths and
shaky exhales

you're ineffable,
the way your chin tips up
just so
to show the expansion of your neck,
the littering of freckles that create
constellations and desire

i'd trace the lines of your body
with careful and practiced touches,
i'd turn you into poetry--
transform your lungs into lyrics
your ribs into rhymes,
your tongue into text and
your spine into somlapsus calami3 months ago in Free Verse

DragonsThe dragons just kept getting cuter.

I'd meant them to be scary, with snakelike heads and pearly fangs, but as my fingers gained more practice the dragons they shaped became younger and more innocent, their wings tiny and their eyes wide. Dull spikes lined their heads and tails, not yet sharpened by age. They lay on their bellies or sat up and watched with good-natured curiosity. They were friendly. They were sweet.

They were flawed, and there were a lot of them. I experimented with color and pose, sculpting the way others would turn a stress ball. Every morning I baked the newcomers in my oven, and within a week my desk was overrun. Rows oDragons9 months ago in Stories & Vignettes

resipiscenthe was one of those dick-faced kids in shades of bright polyester salmon who seemed to always be laughing or looking at me. an ambiguous-named, feminine-famed all-school american douchebag in those quality leather sandals in the wintertime and golf-green shorts.

ta give you some background i'm about as far away on the social scale from him as one can get. you know how all the little groups overlap and flap together, pushed around in the wet sand like wave-rivulets blending little facets of stones together until it makes a dune? well our groups---they didn't even touch. i mean you could go from pop-jock to lacrosse to dipper to weed-dealer toresipiscent1 year ago in Stories & Vignettes

I lost my innocence, that day.When I was younger,
there was a time where all of my friends
were boys.
Girls wanted to play mommy and ponies
I wanted to play tag and race cars
and so did the boys
so we did.

Not a big deal.

I was six when I went over to a friends house for the first time.
He was really neat--
He had a box full of race cars and a bubble machine
that made the biggest bubbles.

One day, as we were having snacks
(because snack time is serious business, no matter what age you are)
I decided I wanted another one.
It was a stick of string cheese, and I was six--
clearly I was a growing lady and I needed my dose of dairy.

So I walked up to his mother and said
"I lost my innocence, that day.2 months ago in Free Verse

i. but not my palmssomewhere along the lines
my heart got so deprived
that i fell in love with
every bit of affection i could get my hands on

you were lovely
and i was lonely

and you fell in love with my voice
but not my mouth
fell in love with my words,
but not my palms

and it was only a matter of time
until that faded
because

we're taught from a young age
who's deemed worthy to love
and who isn't

[ guess who
isn't ]i. but not my palms2 months ago in Free Verse

Untitled.A whisper,
A voice, a murmur
Then silence.

She's afraid, confused,
She recognizes the sounds of his voice
The gentle hum carried by the wind,
The words are oh so familiar.

Is she dreaming?
It could be a nightmare
But it's impossible, it's all impossible.

Flashback
The day before it happened
Sitting in the park
Everything was hazed pink, pink, pink
Everything was love.
His words, verbatum

"Forever never ends,
even when life is dead."
But it died, drowning.

I feel his whisper
Cold as the waters that took life away, away, away.
Cold as the stone of the grave.
"Forever never ends" he says,
Even though I'm dead.Untitled.1 year ago in Free Verse

Don't Talk To Me    "I'm sorry," I said, and meant it.

    She nodded, her expression unfathomable. "Me too."

    There was a long pause.

    "Just two days ago," I said quietly, avoiding her eyes, "we couldn't even be in the same room without going for each other's throats."

    She turned away. "Yeah," she admitted. "But look at us now."

    I continued, "And just two months ago we were the best of friends. But look at us now." This time I looked directly at her, smiling mirthlessly.

    "But look at us now," sheDon't Talk To Me2 years ago in Short Stories

The Best I Can DoWhen you both started that conversation,
The one that would end 2 years of your life,
You couldn't have known what was coming;
But you took it like a pro. Bye bye, wife.
Slow, rational, mourning followed by action,
You stood strong and fearless to show your integrity.
What you couldn't see on the other side of that phone,
Her eyes shone a red, white, and blue so pretty;
And she was looking anywhere but at you boy.

She quit you like school, never going back.
Can't you let her go; chop chop her out?
Of course not, your eyes sparkled like that diamond.
Even though history fills you with doubt,
Suffer righteously, leave her alone, aThe Best I Can Do2 years ago in Free Verse

Noticed in CommittingI started committing suicides. They were small at first, but more grandiose as the months passed.
At first, I came up with basics: wrist slashing, hanging, overdose, jumping off a building, and stepping off in front of bus. They were all very mundane, really, and if not done properly you just end up living very, very painfully. It was after those routine ways to snuff oneself that I began to get creative.
There was going into a biker bar nude and starting fights with drunk bikers. And when I say "fights", I mean with a knife in my hand. That was a fun night. Everyone was freaked out and angry at the same time. They all wanted to kill me, but they didn't want to touch me either. Eventually, though, they did.
Oh, another good one was sneaking into one of those giant dump trucks at a quarry and letting them dump tons of excavated rocks on me. The driver of the loader always sees you just as it's too late and tries to stop the load.Noticed in Committing1 year ago in Short Stories

Emptysunken eyes and a hollow heart
you're longing for something to bring you home
for something to save you and hold you and
tell you that everything's going to be okay
but nothing's okay
nothing's okay about the way your chest aches
or the way your bones are brittle and weak
because you haven't slept properly in months
and you haven't uttered a syllable for even longer
you keep pretending that it's alright
but you don't have anything to keep you sane
you're drowning in your own horror
and you know you should stop it
you know you should get up and swim,
just get the fuck up and swim,
but it's not as easy as it sounds
(because youEmpty5 months ago in Free Verse

They Say I'm Guilty Of the nearly eighty female prisoners that had answered my request, I had narrowed my choices down to two of them. The first was a voluptuous, porcelain-skinned brunette that would make my brother drool in seconds. The second was a golden-haired, frail little piece of work, and normally I would have dismissed her during the first round of eliminations, but something kept her there. Maybe it was the way she stared at me with her venomous green eyes, but I couldn't be sure. In any case, I had my two choices set before me, each isolated in separate cells on opposite ends of the jail so that I might obThey Say I'm Guilty9 months ago in Short Stories

SuperimposeHe doesn't look like a gymnast. He's all button down shirts and frazzled grey hair framing wire spectacles, a picture perfect professorial archetype down to the very tips of his frayed shoelaces. But he was a gymnast once, or so he tells us, and I believe him because he smiles like he knows something while he's chatting before class.

It's strange to see that image superimposed over the current one – the distinguished professor in pressed khaki slacks and a jacket, worn brown loafers exuding a faintly courteous manner (you can always tell them by their shoes), and a ring on the fourth finger of his left hand – versus the athletic kiSuperimpose10 months ago in Sketches

I'm losing the world, one day at a timewe lost you today
sickness took over until you were a ghost of your old self
just a shell of something you used to be

My lips were salty and my mouth was dry
and they let me hold you
as you went away
they let me press my lips to your forehead
one last time

And I tried to be strong, okay
I tried so hard to be strong for you,
I didn't want you to be scared,
I wanted to ease your worries and fears
but I couldn't help it

I couldn't stop the tears as you left easy
as you closed your eyes and fell asleep
because you were gone, now
you were gone and I'm still crying
dragging my shirt up to rub at my sore eyes

I don't know if I'll ever stop cryiI'm losing the world, one day at a time3 months ago in Free Verse

Timeit's insufferable
the way time works
it's either too fast or
it's either too slow

it's a stretch of numbers, curving delicately
like an angel's halo

[it's more like a devil's horns]

there's too much time when
you're slouching in class
or sitting at work
thrumming your fingers against the nearest surface
counting the seconds to the beats
and you're counting, and counting
but nothing seems to be moving

it's far too slow
when a mother waits for a phone call
from a daughter whose plane should have landed
four hours ago

it appears to be completely torpid
when you're perched in a waiting room
of a very white hospital
prayers and wishes and pTime4 months ago in Free Verse

The IdolI once saw a man on the television who was so afraid of fruits that when presented with a bowl of them, he fled the stage, knocking over the host and several other guests. Though I openly pitied the man for his obvious malady of the mind, inside, the small bit of sadism buried within all humans laughed at his bizarre affliction. How can one not find cruel amusement in the cowering of a grown man who has been confronted by nothing more than a bowl of peaches? But now I understand fear like no other. I now no longer find amusement in the terror of others, no matter how illogical.

Now, let me tell you the story of why the sound of wind whisThe Idol2 years ago in Short Stories

Down By The SchoolyardThere is a rather cliched phrase that states that some people live double lives. I have always found that to be an intensely misleading statement and I guess you can call it a bit of a pet peeve of mine. No one leads "double lives", they just lead fucking lives. That those lives are more complex that the singular one-track existence of lesser creatures shouldn't be a matter of duplicity, but of common sense. No one is exactly who they seem to be.

Julio is one of those who they would later say lived a double life, but it is no more true for him than anyone else. The difference in this case is that there are two of him, rather than one.

PerhaDown By The Schoolyard2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes

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