this might be foolish.forty-nine hours ago: we were pressing fingers together through frosted windowpanes, laughing at our reflections and sticking out tongues through frost-bitten teeth. we were gently whispering through the snow to kiss the glass, the intimacy of our own breath steaming down our throats never able to take the place of what we imagine itd be like to breathe each others carbon dioxide.this might be foolish. in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
thirty-five hours ago: we were running down fields clutching dandelions between our fingers, throwing our heads back to expose our neck to the whipping wind and trusting it not cut the slender expanse of it. we were tumbling down the grassy knolls and l
it doesn't come free.if you want it, you're going to have to catch it.it doesn't come free. in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
you're going to have to run until your feet are caked with silt and your mouth is burned with wind, until your heart is laboring behind rusted ribs. you're going to have to chase it through sand storms and ocean tantrums and to the edge of the world and over. you're going to have to strip out of your clothes and inhibitions and fear and pride because it's not slowing down. it's not going to idle in anticipation or pause or give you a fair shake. it's going to twist in currents and cut corners and laugh as it's free diving into still lakes.
if you want it, you're going to have to tempt it.
what if i forgot_cwhat if i lost youwhat if i forgot_c in Free Verse More Like This
amongst sea weed
and wheat fields
and what if field
through my ear drums
and caressed my memory
with your words.
[what if i was to whisper sweet nothings
in your ear until you lost your feet and
floated instead? what if i grabbed your hand
and pulled it through my chest, let you push
aside my ribs and get lost in me?]
what if i taught you
how to love and how
to cry and how to
express your emotions
like cyanide sinking
through teeth, and filing
into your pink gums.
[what if i pulled you inside out and painted
the backside of your skin with coral and wind
i'm choking.i am sitting with smoking nerves andi'm choking. in Free Verse More Like This
frayed circuit wires, everything i don't
know knotting together for me to choke
if there is a door, i can't find it.
if there is an answer, i'm unaware.
instead i am falling to my knees and
crawling under the smoke, eyes watering
and knuckles bleeding. no closer to the end
than when i had begun.
if i had the courage, i'd crack open your ribs
and get the answer for myself. if i was brave,
i'd simply reach over and pinch the truth from
or i'd just tie my heart to the railroad tracks
and wait for you to save it. wait for you
to cradle it and whisper that the time for
hello, beautiful.these are the times i will always remember:hello, beautiful. in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
walking through crowded coffee shops to see you sitting in the corner, steaming cups on the table and bright eyes lighting up the room. hellos tripping over my tongue, shy glances and bitten lips, toes curling in my shoes. hearing your baritone voice for the first time, tying my lips into knots as i fumbled over the introductions.
sitting on my bed, shaking the walls with laughter, your arms holding me close into the curve of your body. driving with the windows down while holding hands, the wind painting butterflies on my neck.
not knowing a thing about you but wanting to pick up the candle and e
i'm sorry.i am sorry if i am not what you expected.i'm sorry. in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
i am sorry if i am not slender or cunning or sticking to the schedule or falling into the precision of appointments and the rules of poetry. i am sorry if i am wringing my fingers dry and running out of paper and bleeding ink through my eyelids. i am sorry if i am butchering words and stitching their bleeding pieces into something i can lie and call beautiful. i am sorry that i cant stick to your grammar, your syntax, your expectations, your rules. i am sorry, i tried.
i cant help that i am running barefoot through the grocery store because i forgot my shoes or that i am driving through
kitestrings.you confessed that when you were little you would pull apart monarch butterflies because they were much too beautiful--kitestrings. in Free Verse More Like This
so beautiful that they made you feel uneasy.
(you always did call me the most beautiful thing you'd ever known.)
it's almost december now, and the only reason i wish you were here is so you could make snow angels and i could rip off their wings.
you wanted a kite for your birthday, so i got you one that was shaped like a bat and we took it to the beach, watched it crash into the surf over and over until it was bent and broken. i rescued it from the tide and surfaced dripping saltwater -- you told me i looked like t
being in love.it's like when you were five, when your pet rabbit diedbeing in love. in Free Verse More Like This
and you learned that nothing good lasts.
it's like the time you dropped him off at his house to watch tv
before you drove yourself to the emergency room, sobbing.
it's like the first time you saw your kindergarten teacher cry.
it's like ring around the rosie, a pocket full of posies, ashes. ashes.
it's like when he went too far, and he said, "is this okay?"
and you said, "no," but it didn't matter.
it's like when he said, "but i want you."
it's like the number seven, or rubies.
it's like when you almost drowned in the pool in north carolina
and when you looked up through the
telling a sad story backwards-17.telling a sad story backwards- in Short Stories More Like This
it smells like grief and sterilized metal.
i climb into andrews bed, though the nurses have strictly forbidden it. he closes his eyes and holds me tightly, because he says when he cant see me, it is easier to pretend i never happened to him.
he pushes the cart aggressively down the aisle, pretending to mow over old ladies doing their sunday shopping.
"stop," i say giggling, lobbing a can of ravioli at him.
for a moment i think he simply didn't see me throw the can; it glances off his chest and falls to the floor, exploding in a pattern of red arrows. i don't notice his eyes rolling back in his head or the graceful wa
Nationalism -unfinished-I am a crime against nature. When I stand still, the world goes right around me. When I walk, I walk different from those who walk beside me.Nationalism -unfinished- in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
My childhood was, for the most part, a vignette blur for me. My oldest conscious memories are from my days in the military academy, where all children old enough to learn are sent immediately. I was older than those I studied with, but I was not incapable or impaired. For what reason, I cannot guess, because something locks me away from whatever happened before I came to that place.
The children in my rank and I would everyday rise from our cots and congregate in a great hall, where every rank would g
neoteric age of snowneoteric age of snow in Free Verse More Like This
neoteric age of snow
you are a blizzard of songs sung in the shower
on a sleepwalking summer's evening.
yet no songfalls skate
into bashful ears
for our hearts are
but in my moonflower mind,
you sing like a fruitfly-flavored flamethrower
tossed into towers of tramping traffic
and i am merely
spitting seas of saliva-soaked alliteration
underneath the syrupy skies
gray-walled kitchen surprise.
yet you are a snowstorm
a mist of william snowstorms
as the naked floor of
squish your storms
into nostalgic doors.
this shall be our story
with flickering f
Blood Will TellBlood will tellBlood Will Tell in Free Verse More Like This
The truth with no lies
The truth we cant see,
With our eyes
Blood will tell
Meant for no ones ears,
For no one to hear
Blood will tell
Everything thought gone
Supposed to be a yawn
In an old history book,
Locked away forever
Blood will tell
You always wanted to know,
Things you didnt,
Things you were afraid to ask
Blood will tell
here is my love, take itI smell firehere is my love, take it in Free Verse More Like This
burning in the flowerbeds.
The smoke rises,
but I can't move.
You've thrown me into the flames.
I go through the motions
make you happy,
but I can't please you
even if i want to.
Opposites don't attract
those who are the same
Do you smell the fire?
the sweet roses.
Every smile we ever had
was sewn into the petals.
You watched me
as i cared for our garden,
but its not the way you want it,
so you burn it.
Is it better to get everything you want
and be lonely,
or am I such a leech
that I will take your skin one day too.
I'm not ignorant enough
to parade a
Lovelorn, Love Worn, Love Lost Bittersweet. That's the only way to describe it.Lovelorn, Love Worn, Love Lost in Fantasy More Like This
"Just t-t-tell me... so I c-can let go..."
".....I love him......"
"Then I will g-g-go."
"Wherever the w-w-wind takes me. My t-time with you is d-d-done. Goodbye, James."
I saw the tear she couldn't stop from falling as she turned to walk away, despite her best efforts to hide it. Saw her thin shoulders hunch as she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold what's left of her together, like steel bands around her heart. It broke my heart to see her pain, but in this line of work, I have no time for compassion. I can't.
I seem to be reminding myse
a girl naiveYou're a pretty girl...a girl naive in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Does it make your life easier than mine?
Are you happier than me?
Does your charm save you from pain,
I didn't think so.
Are you content with yourself?
Have you been spared from jealousy?
I bet boys treat you like a queen,
I wanna know you.
Do you ever get lonely?
Do you keep a lot of secrets?
Do you hear what people say
about you, pretty girl?
I bet you do.
Do you cry in your room at night
because your life isn't as simple as mine?
Do you wish you could be me
just because I seem so free?
Do you know that you're naive,
poetry like teaI never want to know you.poetry like tea in Free Verse More Like This
I want to wonder, want to slide back-down and backwards across your glissandos,
linger over the breaths and pauses,
pour into the warm and dark hollows that you curve into your words,
nestle there like water or skin:
I want to sink into the cracks between consonants, smooth them over,
find the sighs folded into the velvet roundness of an O,
contemplate each brightly fractured e in your name, how it
is wrenched open to the world, wounded, and still
curled tight as a fist over the wound:
I want to drink poetry like tea,
in sips, with sugar,
and then in longer draughts until it washes down my throat like hea