Recent Entries

• Home

  July 27, 2013

   The bruises on my back a brief reminder of when I wasn't so bloody bored

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• Would you could you?

  June 19, 2013

   Shall we go? Shall my eyes cross again as I struggle to conjure some semblance of a vision, an inkling of an inking, a pen-to-paper skirmish, two daggers short of a Truth? Shall I go anywhere but here? Machete through the mists of mind, the overgrown brush that paints in one broad stroke a ...

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• 03/16/2013

  March 15, 2013

  I'd love to talk to you about how much I want to cut my deadbeat brother out of my life, if you wouldn't judge me for it at every iamb. I would honestly love to talk about it, but it would break no one's heart more than yours. So that's it, then.

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• Looking glass

  February 18, 2013

  We might both be made of glass: my eyes won't leave his even as his faltering fingers trace chains along my shoulders in halting little links. "A friendly warning," he sighs. But there is no clink when he hesitates, no chill when he holds my hand, gauging panic by my pulse or the quickn...

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• Checking in! Spontaneously!

  February 16, 2013

   I've been in isolation for about two months now. I quit my 11-hour-a-day job in my hometown's tiny, decrepit shopping mall right before Christmas, and since then it's like I've been in solitary confinement, or on a stress leave, to put a less dramatic spin on it. It's quite odd (in a clich&...

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• 09/22/2012

  September 21, 2012

  My greatest fear is that I'm not as great as I think I am.

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• Crappy

  September 7, 2012

   Whoops, never mind. Isn't that embarrassing. Oh well. At least he's not stringing me along. (bah-dum-pish)

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• Sappy

  September 4, 2012

  "Oh, that's funny, I was just thinking about you," I lied. Because the truth is that I think about you all the time in one uninterrupted thread, thinner than a spider's web and I worry that if I stop thinking, then the line will go slack and I'll lose what you were—what we we...

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• 08/31/2012

  August 30, 2012

  My life will not end before I kiss you again: with an aim like that, I might be able to live without you awhile. At least until you stumble sweetly off the plane, the same mess of hair, the same warmth and gentillesse, and I look up and my eyes meet yours— until then, I…

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