I drove my mother’s car; A manual transmission, 1989 deep-purple Volvo station-wagon. I’ve been driving for ten miles. The kind of miles that take forever because you’re on a two-lane county road with frequent and unnecessary stop-lights for the majority of them. Trisha sat passenger. She knew this wouldn’t be a short drive. Through trail […]Read more "The Drive"
How do I comprehend Love Gifted by someone so beyond my worth; And yet you deem me worthy. Now worth is what I see.Read more "Acceptance"
Cracked knees Crooked heart Black lungs Bruised Start Broken teeth Weighted feet …Yet he remains in love with me.Read more "Yet He Remains"
Happy days happen so quickly and keep on coming; Repeating one by one and then another. Life was more simple when I had them numbered.Read more "Happy Days"
I am stagnant. My pen hovers over paper for an eternity of minutes, before I decide to write this poorly written sentence. I am stuck. I am stuck in mind, in-paper, in-making, in-thought, In-Life. It’s nonsense. I’m nonsense. Everything is a bullet to me and I dodge bullets. I should let them hit me, or pass me […]Read more "Explode"
Life is a series of stones, I’ve come to believe. Some solid. Some cracked to the bone. Some hidden. Some known. One step, two step, red step, blue step. Blind step, new step. “I’m afraid,” I say, “you step.” His response, “I step. You step.”Read more "Stepping Stones"
I carry my Rubik’s cube everywhere I go. I like the way it feels between my fingers. Smooth. I like the ‘stop and click’ it makes when I twist it. One, two, four, five…twist ‘click’ twist…One, two, four, five…twist ‘click’ twist. [Repeat, repeat]. Sometimes I feel naked, absent, without it. Though I’ve never bothered to actually solve it. […]Read more "Rubik’s Cube"
“I think as an artist, to become an artist, you have to love yourself so much. Then, you have to find someone; You have to find someone who loves you even more…” He said after I questioned love. And I thought. I sunk in my thoughts. Thought upon thought of all the things that I […]Read more "Love and Art"
It was some time. Not the best. Not the worst. Just Time. And though there were times I knew I brought out the worst in Time, Time was, as Time is; incredulous, omnipresent and overwhelmingly ostentatious. I despised Time. Yet I had no knowledge or reason or clarity of what Time felt of me. I […]Read more "Tick Tock"
Time swiftly navigated the cold tile floor of the room they called mine and positioned himself at the side of the bed that was assigned to me. He adjusted his oval reading glasses and from his hip revealed a pen. With a click of the hammer, Time readied his instrument and prepared for notetaking on […]Read more "Time’s Iris"