Savage

And then my stomach knots like an insane carnival ride to the moon, and I bite my lip to keep the pain from rolling down my face because these savage sentences keep stabbing me in the back. I want you to bury these letters in the quicksand we made so that I can forget you […]

Savage

All the Pieces

I will always remember. There are moments so rooted in my being that I would be hollow without them. They are what made me. You are what made me even though we were cheated, even though the rug was pulled out and we lost despite the love. Those minutes are sacred, fastened to my heart […]

All the Pieces

Cotton Candy

Cotton candy clouds
pinned to blue-gray skies,
each tied with tiny threads
to the canvas above.

They remind me of waves
from oceans I’ve not touched,
waves of memory I cannot grasp,
and yet I watch them hatch
on the wings of the sun
you’ve already seen set.

I wonder how we can all be
so desperate,
so proud
that we can’t stop
this end-of-the-world gasp
escaping from our lungs,
this death maul
screaming for release,
for relief from being
old and
lonely and
breathing
even though we’re underwater.

The sweet candy-clouds
hover and stretch
but can’t go far enough
to make you mine
or to even make me or anyone whole.

I watch them turn to ash
and wonder if I’m just fading too.

~Patience

In the Wreckage

This road is dark and rife with faults, the cracks spreading clockwise and backwards, mixing time with doubt. You walk alone amongst shards of memory and glimpse your reflection in the wreckage while I bask in overgrown sunlight dotted with decay, and I wonder who’s more broken– the girl who can’t move forward or the […]

In the Wreckage

Islands

I am an island, remote and desolate, pieced together from flotsam and underwater mountains. Alone, separate, I am an island where nothing touches save the sea with its salty lips and acid tongue, and I am unreachable, spotless and distant, vast in my loneliness. I am an island, but so are you. With your righteousness […]

Islands

Colors

Blonde fields burnished red in the evening sun, spindly tree branches stretch out and creak like old men’s bones, and why does everything seem so beautiful from far away? Mountains look like paintings and people like perfection. We can reach out and almost grasp the beauty, the unreality, the imagined happiness trapped inside the fresco […]

Colors