Posts
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June 10th
My last time
Walking down steps
Of a rickety, yellow home
Leaving shouts and laughter
Behind me
My last time
Walking down steps
Of a home I hated every afternoon
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June 8th
June 8th, Saturday
Maybe a cremee
Maybe some gusts of wind and
Together we bike
Trying to enjoy
A moment of earth and wind
Disrupted by bugs
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June 7th
June 7th, Friday
Red and black and white
Dress to remember the day
That is coming soon
Stories told while breath
Is held is like prison and
Never a good tale
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Winter
Cold winds tickle the trees
As light snow falls quietly
On the leaves of an evergreen
Forest
Grass falls as the storm growsWinter whistling its bitter,
Freezing songs
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tink tink tink
tink tink tink
Standing outside
The harsh,
Cold wind
Rushing through my soul
And cutting into wounds,
The ones you can't see
And I start crying
Trying to hold back the tears
But I can't
And they come , -
October
October.
Already?
It still feels like winter.
The orange of the pumpkin
Looks like the sun
And reminds me
You don't know it's fall,
Because you never saw the summer
Loves
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9:14
What I have of you
Is memories of a better time
Jokes you made at 9:14 at the dinner table
Now it’s just
Laughter, exuberant grins followed by
Somber friends and silent abandonment
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Love is a Food?
Maybe,
like steak,
it needs to marinate.
Maybe,
like soup,
it needs to simmer.
Or, maybe,
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Love is an Abstract Painting
Love is an abstract painting:
Colors convey a feeling but not an idea
the frame barely holds it together and the lines
trail outward, repeat, and redouble
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why
I don't have a favorite word,
And I used to think I liked them all.
But my whole body starts to fall,
At the small whisper of why.
Why are you crying?
Why do you hide?
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I rode down your street
I rode
Down your street
The other day.
It’s always
Going to be
Your street,
Even though
