Filed under: creative
there’s a glove.
above.
my head.
it is hanging from a wire that is attached to an eyesore -
the telephone pole should be
under
ground.
i found -
a scratch on my car. not Far
from the hole.
in the wall.
the stars come out at midnite.
crusted are the waves at my feet.
you slipped away.
how quickly you just washed away.
i don’t seem to understand.
i cant help but understand.
that I, too, must go on.
that I, too, leave behind
a trail of my own.
However unknown.
Filed under: creative
I draw to kill time, avoiding academic responsibilities. The creation of chaos provides peace. Personalities generate through my slipping pen. The power of the eraser. Wiping and swiping without a pang of guilt. A peaceful presence. City girl in a country world. Two worlds collide and I feel good.
bunny cant even remember us. Memory’s the struggling strands of canvas on the journal’s edge. Children are no longer. Little brothers, grown men. Memories, the linking chain in the mist of time. Foggy cries. Clouds that shine. A belly to her bosom tenderly real. A fallen leaf on a winter day touched by a ray of light. Nocturnal flow with a destination. Reservoir of doubts. Fighting the roaring winds. Knowing what you don’t want to. Accepting the sacred regret. Changing to be different. The hair. The smile. The boobs. The nose. But the turmoil remains under the superficial verbage of strength. Blonde to brown. Plain to style. By the next cut all will change. A new place, you think. You will have him back. Less tears, more smiles this time. Heart envelopes ration and suffocates doubt. A light bulb without the shade. Awkward and lonely no more. your hair grows. your waist does, too. the only thing that remains constant is You.
Filed under: life
The years have glided
Visions incomplete
Slipping through the
Palms
Of my hands
Like an
Uncomprendable
Sliver of time.
Merely a slice of the pie
Whose flavor
Equates
The entirety of most.
Words are the tears on your face. a quivering cheek, expression mute. Not even a pen captures the truth. A voice echoes from your slippery phone, sounds of empathy and support muffled by your waxed ear. Hearing only what you want to hear, seeing only what you want to see. control. insights slapped back and tattoed all over your body, your own ruthless words. stomach a baby’s grip. An ironic whimper, thoughts of a strong woman.
Filed under: love
I let go to hold on. I hold onto the idea the future – and it is unfair. I hold onto the memories – his character. I hold onto the emotions – his presence. Already a foggy glass of the past. i sip some tea. Another telephone conversation. A mile apart is a world’s divide. Distance a tease, his voice an echo. a comfort but Uncomfortable am I. and i let go once and for all.
Filed under: love
Though this road may end in oceans. And these tides will twist our souls. Your presence, all the difference. And it’s you who makes me whole.
Filed under: love
And the boy with the usc sweathshirt. Pants showing happiness. Wrapped present in hand. His eyes are locked on the funny looking girl on the couch. She is wearing a frumpy sweatshirt and decorated with neon blue braces. I cannot help but remember when i thought those were cool.
The others screech and moan for her to open the boy’s present, silently jealous of such givings. She excitedly unveils a simple pink scarf with a almost matching pink hat, knitted into complacence. She tries it. And retries it. It matches her pimpled face and she glows like a Queen. The boy sincerely admires her awkward presence. She is beautiful.
