I've tried to make families from dozens of friends
But they never seem to stick through the end
Destructive decisions, shorter conversations.
With all of these failures I shouldn't pretend
That I've got such a lot
Of time.
And if there is something missing from me
Getting by from the skin of my teeth
If you don't want me around here that's fine
It's starting to get easier
Most of the time.
My brain likes to lie to me
Saying they've all abandoned me
And every Nana Grizol song still makes me cry
I'm trying to heal
And I never had an adolescence
Worth talking
About.
And that makes me bitter
And that makes me scared
I'm worried that somehow it's made me impaired.
Turn me into a melody
Someone worth singing about
Pull me from this waking dream
Tell me how to symbolize, to categorize all of my thoughts into digestible chunks for everyone
to see,
to look at,
to measure.
My confidence was lost when I didn't have a tether.
Run-on sentences
Angry over grievances
Too tired to care.
I've run miles in words
But they're never good enough.
I can never get my point across and,
Simplification lacks luster.
Welcome to the end of my rope for the day.
Where body-heat has cooled to a contemplative dew.
I've never been the type to run quiet with rage
Though sometimes the silence speaks louder.
Tag: story
The Hazards
I want you to know that I’m trying to hate you.
To put every little thing you’ve done into a box and throw it into the river that made you realize you still loved me.
Let it sink to the bottom along with your near-death and dissolve into spent memories settling into the sediment.
Sway and move with the current.
Lost love,
Lost time,
William and Margaret,
A watery marriage bed,
Left to drown under the force of a Mother’s love.
But I pulled you and I called you here,
And now instead of saying goodnight, I’ve finally found the breath to say goodbye.
Apparition
I think of things that scare me
Sometimes in the dark of night
A scratching at the window
Is all it takes to switch on the light.
I creep around, keeping watch,
Making sure every bolt is safely locked.
I know it’s a silly notion,
Living on the third floor,
But
Sometimes still I imagine a shape,
Silhouetted beyond the balcony door.
Metanoia
My mind speaks volumes
I won’t say a word
(Mama said she’d buy me a mockingbird)
Indentured to sickness
She won’t stand a chance
Bejeweled wings flutter a commonplace dance
(If that mockingbird don’t sing)
A value of equal to or less in stature than
Some thing left to squaller
I’ve muddled it, and,
(Mama said she’d buy me a diamond ring)
For too late I find, I’ve lost peace of mind,
And those thoughts are loud enough to ponder.
Rules Beset
Inspiration on thin ice
Those melodies don’t play nice
When you’re underground
Hairlines gathering dust
They concede that you must comply,
For at least what’s under my
Jurisdiction
I am Sam.
“Where were you last night?” The tears rolling down her face felt like acid burning through his skin.
“Deborah, I know you don’t believe me, but I swear I’m telling the truth.” He watched her put her head in her hands, “I wouldn’t lie to you! Come on, would I make this up?” Sam took a deep breath, reaching out for her hands. Her eyes sparkled with tears as she looked up at him. “Please. I need you to trust me.”
Deborah stared into her husband’s face a heartbeat more. She sighed, resigning to the fact that she could no longer argue. “Okay. I guess I don’t have any other choice.” She wiped the tears from her eyes, “what do we do now?”
Sam took her hand, forever by her side. His eyes glittered, gazing out at the world before them. Out to where he knew they’d find all the answers. “We get those green eggs and ham.”
An extremely silly warm up I wrote a long time ago that still makes me laugh.
Soothsayer
In misting steps I gather
In quiet there is sown
In mounting quakes I wither
And evil lies below
Upended Voices
Really all I’d like to do right now is laugh.
Just laugh and laugh until I can’t remember what I was sad about anymore.
Sometimes I think if I laughed enough the whole sky could come down and I’d jump around in puddles of cloud, and the blue would be like an ocean that never boils any fish or bleaches any coral.
Once it was nighttime I’d be able to collect stars like little lightning bugs and put them in a jar, and I could swim through the inky universe and pretend I was just another galaxy floating by.
I would especially love to hang out with the moon, since she doesn’t give sunburns and always seems nice.
Anyway.
I hope it rains tomorrow.
Random prose?
Long Titles
I am Gandalf,
Dear Bilbo Baggins of Bag-End of the green hills of the Shire at the end of the long lane as marked by the short stubby trees along the way, which often flower in the Spring, as long as the winter wasn’t too harsh, and the winds are breezy enough, since they carry pollen in order to bloom the trees that line the walkway leading to your door,
What’s up?
— Gandalf
P.S. I think you’d make a fantastic burglar
Wrote this as a means to keep myself awake in history class, and it made me laugh. Imagine the title he’ll have after his adventure!
Anxiety
I am indifferent
I am closed off
I am jumping to conclusions
I am a wrinkled shirt at the bottom of the dryer
Forgotten in a frenzied morning filled with burnt coffee and runny eggs
I am a thunderclap sounding a second too late
I am a friendship bracelet frayed at the edges
I am a stomach filled with squirming snakes
I am a June night where you can’t get comfortable
No matter how many times pillows are flipped, sheep are counted, eyelids flutter. Still awake.
I am late acceptance letters
I am sleeping until noon
I am “all in your mind”
I am breaking into pieces as I shudder you apart
And as long as you let me, I will stay.
Woolgathering 