Oct 07
poem 5 comments challenge: Time

The Boy in the Back of the Class

My dad was the boy who sat in the back of the class,
his feet on a desk, arms crossed carelessly over his chest.
He'd being obnoxiously chewing a piece of gum,
and everyone in a while he'd blow a bubble and pop it,
winking at the girls when they giggled and whispered. 
Sometimes he would whip out a comb from his bag
and brush out the tangles in his long blond hair/
He always had a girl one his arm, sometimes even two,
it made him feel special.
He would come home late from parties,
hoping his parents would had noticed he had been gone,
but he had ten brothers and sisters, so they never did.
He got in trouble sometimes,
and would come home drunk in the morning
in the back of a police car. 
He just wanted his parents to notice him;
he vowed one day, if he had kids, he would never ignore them.
He pretended he didn't care about school or grades,
but he secretly loved English class. 
Sep 23

The Boy With the Long Black Hair

There is a boy in my class who sits in front of me.
Everyday I look at the back of his head
and admire his beautiful long black hair.
It shines in the light and sways when he moves;
it is mesmerizing and I can't help but stare at it. 
Sometimes he braids it carefully with deft fingers,
and I wish I could braid my hair as good as he can.
He likes to style it, and sometimes he comes to school
with his straight hair curled like a doll's. 
I admire his hair, but the boys in my class laugh at it. 
They call him gay and tug his braids loose,
they say he doesn't deserve to be called a man,
and threaten to cut his hair when the teacher is gone.
Even some other girls have begun to laugh at him. 
I stay silent, and I have never hated myself more for it.
I wish I had to the courage to stand up for him.
Everyday I tell myself that it is going to be different;
Sep 23

Since You've Been Gone

Sep 23

A Stump

Sep 19


We sat next to each other, legs outstretched on the warm burnt summer grass, staring up at the canopy of leaves over us. Lily's head rested at the base of the tree, arms folded over her chest almost protectively. I could see tears forming at the corner of her eyes. I looked away; there was no point in trying to fix each other with words. We were past words. Past anything, really.

We let our silence fill the air between us. The world was still; the grass beneath our bodies would not stir, and the leaves above our heads hung limply. Our silence spread beyond us until the world ceased to exist. The silence caressed my skin like a wave, smoothing away my jagged edges. Even my own breath seemed to disappear as it left my mouth. It was an eerie sort of calmness, but it was the only peace I had felt since he left. Since he stopped loving us. 
Sep 10
poem 2 comments challenge: Feet

Fly Free, Little Bird.

I have never felt so alive when I'm with you.
The moment of living that bubbles and blisters,
​charring and smoking as I watch the sun fade away,
​dipping below the horizon as it flees the moon;
​a moment in our lives when we come together
​into one beautiful, broken, desperate thing -
​each of us trying to fix ourselves with the other.
​We are a desperate, wild, untamed love that burns
everything it touches - you and me, and our chains.
Our love will burn us, but our love will free us.
​I wonder what will happen when we find freedom.
​I am scared that you will no longer love me.
I am scared you be able to see past me at the world beyond,
​and realize that there is so much more out there for you.
​Part of me wants you to leave,
because you deserve so much more than I could ever give.
I want to find that your wings have grown powerful
​and that you a free to fly away and see the world.
Sep 01

Fake Love (By Grace Brouillette

My friend, Grace Brouillette, wrote this song.

You said

That you would always be

With me

With me
But you

Never wanted me

Not really

Only wanted to play the game
But you

You only wanted me

To be there when you needed me the most
You only wanted

My presence

Not my love
Our love isn’t something I can feel

It isn’t something I find real

I used to think that you were mine

But now I find

That we’re a lie
You said

That you would stay

With me

With me
But you

Always got away

To find

Someone else
You only wanted

My presence

Not my love
Our love isn’t something I can feel

It isn’t something I find real
Audio download:
Fake Love.m4a
Sep 01

Ink Flowers