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Article 9
One for the road Two when I get home Three before bed Four to the head Five golden rings Six silver things Seven ate nine Eight stands to shine Nine in the hand Ten just can’t stand Eleven for the kill...
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Straws
Everyone singles out the quiet kid. “He’s the one that’s going to break,” they’ll say. It’s cliché and it’s far too common. I am the quiet one. And I’m nowhere near about to break. I’m here to tell you...
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What’s A More
Full moons never look full to me. I guess I’m some sort of pessimist because I never could see what kind of romance lies within or what’s supposed to be the kind of connection that’s never there...
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To be known
One sits on its own, in its home, all and alone with no one to share its tea, scones. Wished someone felt the same way it felt, felt just to be known. But no one is home. Plenty of space to build its...
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Someone else
A thousand words nor photographs can capture the landscape of your face. A hundred different scenes, but none the perfect place. Tens of different motions, none match your flowing grace. A hundred...
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Trapped into Tranquility
A walk down a nature path led me through some brush. I stepped too close to a blackbirds nest and at me did he rush. I ran, I fled, I waved my arms but nothing seemed to scare, the nasty thing from...
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In the Dark
In the dark, our true minds come out to play. What you see is what you get, and there’s nothing stopping the craziest shit from being created from your imagination. In the dark, our true selves are...
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What’s A Matter? (A retort)
Part 1: Full moons still don’t look full to me. But sitting under the stars with your hand in mine while listening to toads croak and the neighbor’s dog whine underneath the incomplete moon but full...
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Out of touch
Everything moves like a whirlwind around me. My friends are enemies and the ones that mean most to me set me in a hallway full of shit sent to frighten me. Around a corner and a man, blood-faced, grabs...
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An Ode to the Bicycle
I’m not a brave person. I stayed on the trike for far too long. My cowardice might be a curse and it’s easily reversed by a hit from a bong. There’s nothing better than being stoned and riding my...
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Scream
“Fuck.” The only thought I could conjure through the never-ending pain. I’d love to tell you that this a postmortem epilogue, where I died and my soul is recounting the story of my bi-monthly agony....
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A Prayer
Dear God, stop fucking me. In the name of the father and of the son and the holy spirit, I whispered a prayer but of course you didn’t hear it. I had your Roman Catholic bullshit shoved in my face...
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