Category: Writing
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(Poems) – headless Victory – 68 words
you can’t hold yourself together anymore. the cracks spread further every day. making yourself marble has made them uncurable. even a helping hand can’t heal absence. there’s no glue for marble, no fix for burnt books. There’s a reason Victory is still headless, and you’re still not happy. nothing stays important, no one saves you,…
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spring ghost – 294 words
My sleep disintegrates into a sore neck and a dark room. I lift my head from my desk with a groggy moan. The screen saver of my laptop stares at me— accusatory and bright. A notebook filled with indecipherable trains of thought and decorated with drool sits on the side. The details come to me…
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(Poems) – the closing – 106 words
Your eyes are closed and I look out the window. The sky is drowning in crimson after someone tore out my throat with their teeth. Birds fall from the sky as if flight had just been a fantasy all along. I go to the ocean and watch the fish rise to the surface bellies-up, like…
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Heartland – 500 words
The blades of red grass stretched over her head. They clung wetly to her as she pressed through them, but when she checked her skin, she found no crimson stains. What little of the sky she could see was black as mold and smeared with blood. The line between day and night was arbitrary. Warm…
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(Poems) – black box – 56 words
these words are just a black box on a falling plane a drowned memory in an ocean plain. lost within a trackless train. stained with blood and promises now slain. lost deep in the shade. and there in that dark place laid, is the only light I ever made. you watch as it begins to…
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gone sour – 416 words
Once in a while, he runs away. The story ends like this: he comes back. He knows that, but that doesn’t stop his escapes. The story happens because of this: he doesn’t know. His life isn’t bad, lonely, or empty. What life is, not just for him, is heavy. Sometimes he feels the hairline fractures…
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(Poems) – a Door inside – 112 words
the Door is as old as me.Sometimes I chip at it,And let a little through before ISlam it shut, and then I haveA story, or a poem, or a shred of somethingBigger, which I discard. i Know there is more behind it.An ocean ofSelf that I can never let through in case itDrowns me and…
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gas station lovers – 1012 words
The long and bloody dance ended at that gas station at one in the morning. Anton found Jonas filling his car with shaking hands, dirty clothes, and a week’s worth of stubble turning into a beard. Not that Anton looked any better. He lingered by the ice machine, savoring his last moments with the man. …
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(Poems) end credits – 86 words
There’s rolling text when I die— names who helped, names that didn’t. A startling construction of steel and thorns. Why I succeeded, why I failed. All written between the lines of those who built me. The backing music is a mocking drone. The theatre empties before the words stop. No anticipation of a legacy, no…
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(Poems) – frostbite – 58 words
A path unhindered: plowed and lit framed in bright darkness. I know the way to go. But a shifting silhouette in the distance: between me and the end A lover? A killer? An end or a beginning? I go forward: trusting with eyes closed— A kiss ringed with copper on my lips. A rose-scented knife…
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(Poems) – it dies, unaided – 54 words
The firelight begins to dim. I see it, we see it. The splitting, crackling wood quiets. Sore sorrowful sparks make their last dance. Smoke rises like irretrievable hopes escaping us The charred logs lose their glow. I sweep up the white ash, we sweep up the white ash The fireplace sits dark and still.
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(Poems) – love was framed – 128 words
there’s nothing safe about love. it can be a net waiting to catch you, or a golden line leading you forward, or chains pulling you beneath the waves. it changes and shifts. it can be a key made for your heart just as easily as it can be a knife crafted to fit between your…
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(Poems) – dad – 46 words
we have a long way to go. so keep the door unlocked— keep the fire burning. we won’t get lost. you showed us the way. x we remember your helping hand, your tired heart. we can see you on the horizon. our gentle mountain, our way home.
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(Poems) – first snow – 96 words
every year, winter kills autumn / with bloodlust / with joy / it steps away from the body with red hands / and cold eyes / and bruised knuckles / brother killing brother / cain and abel jealous over the life the other held / just as autumn killed summer / with cold eyes /…
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(Poems) – How to Perform a Transfusion
Start with a kiss. It’s the only anesthetic I need. Whisper a sweet lie to soften my flesh, then cut me open. Slice along my arms, saw through my rib cage. Take out my diseased heart and replace it with something still living. Drain out my blood and keep it far from anything living. Mix…
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