That corner over there is the nap time corner. Four people with their eyes closed trying to catch a few more moments of rest before they have to rush rush rush around all day. Maybe one of them is actually heading home having worked all night and is pre-empting sleep, giving hirself a little preview…
Tag: writing
Dear Bitchy Prudes
Dear Bitchy Prudes, It’s none of your damn business if my breasts “pop” out of my dress. I do not appreciate your concern and I do not need it. I know my limits and I very rarely exceed them. If my boobs do happen to “pop” out – too fucking bad. It’s not like…
Playlist 4 – Depressed [End] Prose Poem
Armor Your Love I caught your ‘sorry.’ Am tangles in a moon girl. I’m low, not that there’s love. You miss quiet, I left unseen. You love the fall, it’s so much you. Love makes. I cry in you, he could love still – who’s the way? With years in time, first ashes to you,…
Thinking
What is she thinking about, biting her lip like that? What is playing in her headphones? Her green-blue eyes flick back and forth as she watches things flash by outside. She leans on the bar with one hand, standing on one foot, her other foot resting on its toe. Brown leather boots with a slight…
The C [in NYC] Stands for Cynic
I have been told many times that romance novels give women unrealistic expectations for sex, for relationships, for life in general, etc., and I can agree with that on some level. It’s not that I ever thought that sex was going to be how it is in romance novels. I understand the myth/fantasy/rarity of the…
Playlist 9 – Impressions, D26
Playlist: Depressed Song 26: She Will Be Loved by Maroon 5 Broken She comes to him every time stiff, unyielding, sharp, and aloof. She is glass and ice, and rusted nails and jagged metal edges. She comes to him with marble eyes that slide away from his, razors for cheekbones, and poison for lipstick. She…
The Runner
He’s leaning forward like a runner at the start line. Ready to bolt, right hand braced on his leg, left elbow propped on the other, his chin in his hand. He’s wearing big, clunky work boots that would make running difficult. A red backpack and canon camera hang off one arm. Deep-set eyes in a…
Ski-Jump Rose
Her nose looks bumpy, but it curves up right at the end like a ski jump. Crossed legs, bag in her arms. Her blond hair is pulled back, but it wisps out, fluttering near her eyes. Pierced ears, but no earrings. Looking away. Profile. She’s thinking. Pale eyes, most likely blue. Gold chain around her…
Containment
Can I lay myself down inside your bones for a little while? I need to rest a bit and I feel safe tucked in between the spaces in your skeleton. Because when I inhale deeply enough your ribs cage me in and I can feel each one holding me together as I fall apart.
Suspension
It’s been over two years since she woke up with the scent of someone else embedded in her skin, and it is both comforting and terrifying. She can smell his cologne and sweat and she remembers her face pressed into warm, smooth skin, and strong fingers stroking down the back of her neck. She remembers…
Classified
I found this in one of my notebooks and it gave me a laugh: Second year creative writing MFA student seeking: male, orphan, massage therapist who plays hockey. Must be no older than thirty-two. Would prefer some post-high school education (Bachelor’s degree or better). Submissives need not apply. Must appreciate quirky sense of humor and…
Spaces
Space. Spaces. The meaning occurs in the spaces between the words, in the unfulfilled potential between scenes. There were spaces between Donald and the things that he said. There are spaces between you and I. Is there meaning in those spaces? If I can eliminate any space between us does that mean we stop having…
Little Gentian 