1720
|
Your matted hair a clotted dark galaxy torn from useful teeth stars disappear into the flavorless gray Does it always have to be that way? Do we always have to change? Will you stare if you ever see me again?
|
1000
|
I liked one best when he threw off his scarecrow shackles and joked, pinching my knees I liked the other one when he was sincere though it was rare certainty I crushed his heart without a care so I deserve the hollow hold Even though I swore…
|
910
|
My matted hair a clotted dark galaxy torn from useful teeth stars disappear into the flavorless gray a longing nebula of regret The universe is turning old before you know Does it always have to be that way? a gray universe of stars dying unknown deaths …
|
19522
|
In another life you would have learned to cook.
|
162700
|
The future? I can’t see it, my imagination dies out when I try. Because every time I think about becoming a father to a baby girl I remember Kelly Kominsky, and what a merciless shit I was.
|
1700176
|
Every time I read a great line by another writer, I feel fear.
|
97432
|
I’m sorry. We couldn’t fix the country
and left her a bigger mess than we found her
Oil leaking from her shores
earthquake batter all over her skin
We couldn’t fix her, and we’re sorry
You’ll find her wreck in tatters
at the bus st
|
93251
|
The roses ask for you when I smell them
They seem to remember your touch more than
others. They can’t bear it when you’re gone
and wonder when you’ll be returning
I am beginning to do the same
I no longer go outdoors to be with them
|
9111
|
After 35 years, red still smells like the day of my abortion.I awoke early, my movements hushed to prevent being discovered by the dorm matron and my fellow students. It was cold that Christmas eve for Delhi, but no one would miss me in the excitement of the last day before…
|
154521
|
It was too young to be love.
We were 5,
a buzz-cut me,
and you,
plated with babyteeth
|
111711
|
Surrounded by a stressfull sense of trying to understand the human condition. The flawed characters in the story speak of past violence and conflict. It is about a boy who is dealing with a recent suicide attempt on his own life & the regrets that come wi
|
4800
|
If he had simply faded like a shout from the street, the chaste tree she loves for its blue irony would not have been planted, nor the red clover made to bleed. It was always too dark, or windy, it was too late to call or…
|
111950
|
|
154062
|
|
14782112
|
...you pile into your Mercury and barrel down the street, the air smells like sea, the night goes forever...
|