She speaks in sighsShe speaks in sighsShe speaks in sighs in Free Verse More Like This
melancholy dripping from her eyes
to her lips, leaving salty trails
on her pale cheeks
She wanders through a whirling fog
tormented by shadows
of things never there
things that will never come
to break through the misty grey,
to stop the whirling in her mind
the flooding in her eyes
She speaks in sighs
of evaporated hopes,
of disintegrating dreams
She walks hand in hand
the two so intertwined,
there is no room in her heart
the cold so permeating
warmth is simply kept away
DriveNo matter how far or how fast she drove, it always caught up with her. In fact, it sometimes arrived where she was headed before she even got there; and every time it happened, she pressed the gas pedal a little bit more, pushing herself a little bit faster. She hurtled down freeways, weaving between car after car; she ran red lights, she nearly mowed down her own neighbors. But it always caught up to her.Drive in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
As she pushed herself more, she finally threw her caution out the driver's side window; the rules of the roads no longer applied to her. And one day, she drove her car straight into a wall, the cement divider between her old self and insanity, going a hundred and two miles per hour.
And now it couldn't catch up to her, she was free; free from her own mind at last.
Tunnel VisionHis very nature makes it so easy to just say yes, just accept him and allow myself to be whisked off to a world of blissfulness, of simplicity, of security. He makes it so easy to just go along, to take his hand and allow him to lead me to a comfortable oasis of chivalry and laughter and a sense of normality. But my eyes and my heart are set on a different place, a place of darkness and subtleties and uncertainties as tangible as the night air. A different person, a different place where I must have my hopes and dreams laid out before me while I wait amidst my darkest miseries--all while awaiting his arrival, the arrival of the other to which my heart belongs. I feel an excitement, a rush, a hope ever lingering, twinkling and dimming as its fickle nature dictates, dancing just barely out of reach. I keep my eyes on this hope, never allowing myself to see the surrounding blackness, the monsters and stalactites and glass shards just waiting to receive me as I fall in my attempt toTunnel Vision in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
RollercoasterBipolar disorder:Rollercoaster in Free Verse More Like This
a neurological phenomenon that inhibits the brain's ability to stabilize itself.
A simple imbalance that chews, rips, burns holes through moods.
Through families and friends and lovers,
through the tenuous laces that once tied us together,
now broken through one word,
one manic, uncontrollable phase
induced by the body's own defense mechanisms.
A phenomenon that catalyzes a cycling,
a never ending rollercoaster of ups and downs
that has only one solution,
the final solution that no one wants to resort to,
but that so many do anyway.
The mania, the depression;
the peaks of alpine, deoxygenated bliss
and the boiling, hellish depths of hydrothermal vents;
the places that nobody else has to go
because their minds won't take them there,
A ThoughtDeath haunted my mind today,A Thought in Free Verse More Like This
though I thought I'd chased those thoughts away.
ButterfliesThey erupt in my stomach, a great beast belching its smoke and flame in a terrifying display of intimidation; I am overwhelmed. An ocean, a tsunami of delight-crested waves ripple through me, sending me dizzy, reeling, and grasping for thoughts, for the proper reaction. A hot air balloon, floating through the sky, traversing the clouds as puffs of cotton candy, elation, the fleeting hope of a new happiness, the smile that always bubbles to the surface.Butterflies in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
They've dissipated; I recover myself, smile lingering.
MemoryWandering through a forest of memories, each tree a moment; feelings etched into the bark encasing the lifeblood, the flesh of those memories. The air is still, but leaves lose their grip and flutter to the ground as a moment of memory is forgotten, as a notion descends to join the damp depths of the lost. Only occasional rays of light penetrate the ceiling of leaves, filtering to the ground to highlight one buried memory, one hidden feeling, one lost painting of a moment.Memory in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
EyesFrom those eyes I see a reflection, two perfectly spherical mirrors of something not quite me and not quite him, but with a little bit of both; with pieces of ocean, chlorine scented synthesized sea sparkling in those eyes; a blue green iridescence unparalleled by anything save perhaps the shimmering scales of my miniature aquatic companion. I see a history of perfectionism, dappled by hints of perfection itself--though he doesn't know it, despite what I tell him. From them flow an aura, a radiating, endless series of waves of a bright steely blue, capped with white froth and a million rainbow spheres; and he has no idea they even exist. I see a metallic resolve, a flaking, splintering security of greens and blues and a core of black set in those two bright slots, those two bright eyes that are always fixed on me. Those two bright eyes of whose effect he has no idea, not even the slightest notion of the power they possess, the hints of the elements and the divine, and the reflection ofEyes in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
RedA throbbing in the eardrums, incessant bass and the voice of one too self-satisfied send pounding reverberations ricocheting through the room. The smell of bread left too long, flakes strewn across a haphazardly painted, age-old table, waft over heads. Laughter, eyes darting from face to face, meeting by chance and quickly flitting away from the other bright pair, a nervously contrived contribution to a conversation. A face buried in a book, concentration dwindling, a silent struggle against the sound, the throbbing. Red fills the eyes, the walls alive with color and layers of cartoons and names, alive with layers of memories.Red in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
DrowningYou had a chance to get out of that life; you had an escape in me. I offered you a passage, a portal to a world of sunlight and warmth, of sandy beaches and palm trees, of sophistication and clarity, of art and transcendence, of political correctness and an air of intelligence. I left my world, dove to your depths of mind-numbing simplicity, and I took your hand, I used every last ounce of my energy to pull you up to the surface, my surface. I extended you kindness, pure compassion and caring that you couldn't have experienced otherwise; I offered you myself, though you didn't know that I was withering away. I gave you love, I gave you trust, I gave you all the clichés that are expected from such a relationship, all the clichés that I thought that you deserved. I took your hand and I began, I tried my hardest to pull you up.Drowning in Emotional More Like This
But as my withering began to overwhelm me, I knew I was running out of breath. I knew I had to escape, too; I had to escape from you, if only for a momen