I never write about paradise. About the region between familiar hands and my own, about the person who makes the perilous journ...
Showing posts with label Goodbye. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Goodbye. Show all posts
the boy with the scissors
I warn you, the words may be more malignant than beautiful. It’s a story about a boy and his plant, the seed that took so long to spr...
when you slam the door.
you use the term best friends but the only best in this friendship is the anxiety that's getting the best of me. the rest of it...
"nothing gold can stay" (frost, 1923)
He keeps his fingers close to backspace keys, ready and willing to deplete and delete as necessary. He keeps his fingers close to bac...
oh.
he drops love words like atom bombs, but his journal's never heard your name. he wrote the book on poker faces, dealing out d...
the flames
you do not deserve these words. you are not worth my writings. you are not worth the knuckle cracks and ever-moving arthritis, th...
you will never read this.
You will never read this. You will never read this, or see this, or smell this, or run your underage hands along this. You wi...
unplugged soul
I showed him my blog if he promised never to speak of it again. He said, "I'll never say a word about it. Promise." ...
never break a writer's heart.
Never break a writer's heart. Never break her, never break him, never chip important pieces from their morning-after shoulders. ...
requiem to sad history.
You don't listen until your eyes do. You're analyzing paper words and wire lines but you aren't listening until it's...
six feet
We are six seconds from breaking. We are six too many holes in our ribcages, carved like six-foot-deep pieces of Earth, shuddering as...
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