i tell our stories to the leaves and hold them in my fist balled tight encased in skin to never lose them i don’t let go but gradually the color changes i feel their death fall between my fingers in pieces. Each piece flutters for a second upon wind currents but falls to the ground. The first lays down and I watch it grow wings. A blackbird. Sitting on the rooftop, I shook in your...
“You may not be her first, her last, or her only. She loved before she may love again. But if she loves you now, what else matters? She’s not perfect - you aren’t either, and the two of you may never be perfect together but if she can make you laugh, cause you to think twice, and admit to being human and making mistakes, hold onto her and give her the most you can. She may not be thinking about...
she strung her dress with stars
She strung her dress with the stars Smeared the white blood of the moon across her chest And she howled She howled the storms of dreams Turning in their sleep The moment the wind changes and trees lose their leaves How many limbs can bow to the ground and only whisper the demise of the stars. I hung light from her arms and drew a line along the sole of her foot to watch the sunlight seep...
I happened upon a picture of a drowning girl Her nails scraping against ice White butterfly face drained of blood At the bottom is a wish All I hear is words
i love the rain here, it’s beautiful. its as if the sky is crying all the pent up tears it feels in the heartbeats of its people. the way after, everything radiates. the trees and flowers glow, the very picture of rebirth. everyone ducks into houses and under coverings. the ocean continues to flow in and out, although its at peace. the sand rises up in a mist around the lone walkers feet and...
we used to race slugs lean a board against a wall and line them up at the bottom they’d race uphill each of us thought ours would win but they’d meander all over the board disregarding the finish line. you reached across an ocean your arm threaded through the clouds you were looking for me. i watched as you toured the skies entered the heart of icarus danced with the...
I’m going to assume you’ve heard of the sky in arkansas, darkened by blackbirds, the ground, an apologetic black of feathers in the wind. it’s with lethal quills that we gut our victims poison filled pens tattooing the face of god upon backs in violet ink and children scribble down their arms in crayon lopsided wax smiles of families holding hands. among the...
the blackbirds lament
in arkansas. a darkened sky of red winged blackbirds. beating bullets rain down. the ground an apologetic black of broken wings. on the twenty third hour of the three hundred and sixty fifth day the night collapsed into itself folding upon the dotted lines of the constellations overlapping the bright white moon. the body count was five thousand.
the tree branches extend away from me. extra set of limbs. air rushes between my toes and rain puddles in the crevices of my collar bone. i see you. you walk towards me from the east amidst the gaggle of three eyed geese. they watch you. your footprints a steady contrail extend backwards point to where you’ve come from. i stand upon his eyelid and dive the arrow of my hands...
None of the elephants blew their trumpets this morning, as the sun rose over...– foreign languages
she walked through the kitchen. feet curved reminding me of foot binding. slight pressure upon the arch and they snap. bind each with cloth to hold them in place sewing skin to skin and reshaping them to perfection. smaller. more delicate. only slow steps can be managed and lightly, as if on thin ice, as if she’s hovering just above the ground she glides through the kitchen. she pauses as...
at the foot of my bed your feet brush the floor stirring the air into an ephemeral wind you string the mason jars holding black widows from the ceiling and let one loose I light one match let it drop to the floor a burning star forms around my body I think of the snow angels outside beneath the telephone wires their outlines teeming with footprints.
please, stop torturing yourself.
1. stop thinking about it. 2. there are a lot of people that care. 3. time. 4. stop torturing yourself. 5. i hate watching your pain.
temporarilyromancingthesoul asked: not to mention is all this brilliant writing yours? if so you're incredibly talented and im following because it's all fantastic.
The instant faded breath intermingled with mine. Pastel lips painted history upon delicate skin. As the sky is always blue once above the clouds I revel in the edge. A dagger. Double bladed my feet rest upon the tip. I gouge the edge into my calf and blood begins to run. Flying couches cracked houses and falling children, you never fall instantly into a nightmare. There’s always the clouds...
I feel infinite, like the last person on earth.
it penetrates my dreams the photograph her face. misshapen deformed like some twisted metamorphosised caterpillar that forgot what a butterfly looked like. i hear my dogs nightmares the constant thudding against the walls as her legs run effortlessly created by a landscape sculpted by the needle placed beneath her skin. i see the aboriginal painting. the contrast of orange upon orange. ...
mother, did it need to be so high?
too much Zoloft and alcohol emanate tears laced with memories reflection pools elven footprints intertwine through concrete pathways lookout points she knows where the ocean is the boats are in line wind planted a juniper bush sage bush rhubarb mowed over and chopped up before it settled upon the dinner table. her boats set sail and sunk a reflection pool laced with Zoloft...
The Man in the Basement
my family’s asleep the pillow that I hid from myself lies on the floor the pond usually filled by my hair drought ridden the way when leaving the basement i sprint up the stairs knowing with every quivering inch of me that there’s a man silent as snow at the bottom always reaching for my ankles the deadbolt turns from the inside and every light goes out. a crypt. with my toe i slide...
the big picture is simple it’s just every little fucking thing that’s excruciating.