Sep 24

Ideas

There was once a time when I would simply lay my fingertips over the keyboard, and they would race, from letter to letter, word to word, sentence to sentence. I didn’t have time to wonder what they were thinking.

Now of course, things are different (things always seem to do that funny thing, change). Now each words crawls out slowly, waiting for the cursor to swoop back and banish it from the page. Now each story is thought out carefully, tossed from palm to palm to see if it is strong.

But ideas are shifty things, and they hate being squeezed onto a single path. Often, they’ll twist and shrivel and droop until they are obviously unfit for use and are thrown back into nonexistence, where they can turn into whatever they please.

And I’ll wait, trying to glimpse one, trying to stab through the letters and into a powerful story, one that while skate down the page, pirouette through red herrings, and bow at a neatly wrapped ending.
Sep 24

Black and White

Paint clings to her arms, streaks of color winding their way across her veins, dipping in and out of her hair. Not that she notices. She presses up against the canvas, filling it, filling her, not understanding why the two are separate.

She doesn’t understand a lot of things. Why skies do not crack open the way they do in her dreams, why papers are typed in straight lines, why words plaster walls of school but vanish inside mouths.

A skyscraper curves into the dabbles of purple shards, then melts. An eye blinks way to an eye to yet another eye. Gray and pink swirl together, erasing frothy symbols.

Symbols. Like the kind that are stamped across everything, calendars, piano keys, cloth. They’re supposed to make life better- this she knows- but what evades her is how.

She swoops her fingers from the gobs of paint and pulls them across her shirt. The material bunches, grabbing and letting go of her in peppery ridges.
Sep 04

Swings

I can’t sleep.
It’s not the thunder, or the darkness. Not the coldness that follows me, creeping under the blankets, no matter how many I pile on. Not the white noise that is always humming, smoothly, but far too loudly for thoughts. Maybe everything together, but I know the seed of all these problems is him.
He’s had me flailing around helplessly, reaching for support when the ones who are close are as crippled as me, and the ones far away have no idea of the pain. He’s had me waiting, waiting for eons for something that isn’t there. He’s had me hoping, he’s had me dreaming. He’s had me falling.
I walk downstairs, silent, glowing in my thin nightshirt and flick on the television.  It whirrs and struggles to lay the disc that was left inside, whatever that was. It has been months since the time of movie-watching, it has been years.
Aug 21

Phone Tag

Please leave(.)
a message(.)
after the tone(.)


you’ve changed(.)
your answer(.)
ing machine’s message(.) 
since when(?)
did it fall
flat(?)
tening into that conformity(?)
everyone expects(?)
you and I to end(.)
up like everyone(.)
I don’t want to be(.)
without you(.)
I broke(.)
up with 
you(.)
didn’t want that(.)
did you(?)
still remain inside 
your self(?)
ie you sent made me cry(.)
for you(.)
‘ve changed.

I’m calling you back(.)
to our old
times(.) 
have changed(.)
you too(.)(,)you know(.)
how it ended(.)
any feelings
I have left(.)
for you(.)
to wake up(.)
would help me, too(.)
much. I had to leave(.)
you(.)
should move on(.)
from
me(.)(,)
I am not changing(.)
who I am.

Hear me(.)
and
my thoughts(.)
Aug 20

(No/Some)thing

when the light crumples away
and shrivels up
i freeze
waiting to
withdrawgivechaserealizethetruth
but there’s nothing
i can’t stop thinking
or maybe i
never started
it’s hard to see anything
these days

when the world plummets away,
i stand
wondering whether to follow
or stay left behind
i guess it was never
really much of a choice
just something else to
toss into that vast pool of
worth
less
ness

when the stars cluster away,
i reach out
thinking i understand
but never halfway so
everything shifts, spewing away
too fast, too far, too much
i snatch hold only to
burn
under their
crushing
weight

it would be better
if i stayed within the lines
and let the windows fog over
just so my own emotions
wouldn’t betray me
so my own fingers wouldn’t tangle
in things that don’t exist

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