Most days, I'm good. I can get by and only think of you once— maybe twice— as a passing thought. Then there are days like today. When the breeze picks up and the rain draws near. When the leaves have all fallen and colder weather is here. I need a jacket— No— a blanket and... Continue Reading →
I have boxes of bone fragments I need to sort through and store away. They used to be full skeletons, but through the years that pass me by-- and even in the present-- today, On my highest closet self in the safest lock-box, they continue to decay.
It seems that time takes every second of our lives and encases it in a coat of glass. We can still see it, but we can no longer touch it. Once the glass shatters, that memory is forgotten and ceases to exist. It all seems so unreal to look back on memories. To think that... Continue Reading →
The Wingless by Cecilia Llompart Series: Carnegie Mellon Poetry Series 2014. 63 pages Genre: Poetry Final Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars My Thoughts: I loved the way the way the poems are laid out in this book. There are 4 parts: Hymnal, Almanac, Wherever We Roam and Take My Body Home. The first part of the... Continue Reading →
textbooks tell me humans are social creatures. humans need interaction to thrive. humans need to love and feel loved. anti-social. introvert. shy. weird. awkward. negative. crazy. those are my names. the names on my collar. the names i respond to. friends. people who care. only... they don't. they are friends so long as i remember... Continue Reading →
The guy that likes the Deftones. That used to be his name. He’d come into my music store We’d spend awhile discussing the latest musical lore. He dressed like Jonathan Davis. His eyes were ashy gray. I always asked when I started my shift “Has the guy that likes the Deftones stopped by today?" His... Continue Reading →
This world is so lonely, few friends to relate. Small talk is all they give. How is that any way to live? My landlord doesn’t understand why the rent is late. He calls… and calls.. and calls.. and calls, Just to belittle and berate. Given crumbs to work like a robot and still,... Continue Reading →
A memory is but a dying flame, Fighting to consume just enough oxygen So that it may linger a while longer, Before it inevitably slips away. The memories of us flicker in my mind. The one of how I want to remember it. And the one of what we truly were. Yet, do they not... Continue Reading →
As a magician carries a deep passion for his tricks— though he knows they are not real— We too cling to the illusion of what we used to be— despite the clear reality that what we had was nothing we could feel.