E-P.B.

He used to be confident, now she can’t see him or his shadow called pathetic. She use to be thinner, which in his mind meant she use to be better. They both were aware of how little they talked now. A consequence of never shutting up in their twenties. Happiness has been gone for quite sometime, Optimism was the latest to leave. People gravitate towards the kind and the weak for the same reasons:…

We’re playing make believe, Living in the dollhouse tucked away In the corner of your childhood bedroom. You thought I would be content there, But I need to look from a window bigger than Two inches X three and a half inches. I need more than plastic trees and door handles that don’t turn and painted on smiles.

The alarm on my clock won’t shut off And the doors I force open Creak and cringe rudimentary warnings. Mornings are supposed to be kind. It’s warmth should matter. I don’t think it has for the past year. Mild winter, Wild sinner. Ingredients that leave my stomach raw. Sleeping pills in my desk drawer Push me past noon. I sense my definitions turning, Slipping sight into a void. Wearing a…

A Girl I Met on Several Occasions

A Girl I Met On Several Occasions Blonde hair, blurry eyes. I said my name three times before she believed it wasn’t Darren. Short grass became tall snow. Our town sprawled enough for us to stay hidden from another. I was blood and water with nowhere to go. She was a sharp mind, and soft cheek bones that framed my favorite smile. Only a handful of times did I talk to the real her. All the other…

The Geography of Sentiment

Words ruin the feelings I need to share next, But I think I have to try. I am here and you are there, Separated by miles and millions of people i’d rather not think of. My mind is still busy with you. You are my reminder of the quiet place within my soul. I go back to that place when I feel overwhelmed. I go back to you when I need a moment of rest. I pull you into my confusion for a whisper of…

Thunder, Thunder, Voice asunder, Tell me more, Tell me what I’m looking for. I’m lost in the storm. I’ve lost all warmth, Chasing the forest With the lightning chorus. What I search is the dawn, What I search for is gone. Thunder, Thunder, Vice asunder.

I haven’t heard from a god this year Even though my words mirror chapter ten David. Do my prayers even reach them? Or do they settle on the moon? I can’t clearly define what a soul is, but I know mine hurts. Maybe I’m a romantic, Or maybe I’ve lost some religion.   I acknowledge Him like I acknowledge a far away lighthouse. I know it is signaling for me in the night, But I can’t set a course for…

She is armor and wind. Hair swirls around her face as proof. Partial smiles hidden by black tangled curtains. Her skin— tested chainmail.   Underneath her guards you will find My fondness for the slight angle of her nose, The way her laugh reminds me of singing, And her desire to feel the shadows of the Great Wall.   Underneath her guards you will find Scars I trace at night. The one she has worn…

Look on My Works, Ye Mighty, and Despair

Sand crawls across the surface in Finger length gusts. Searching. Lurching. Hoping. Lurking. Looking for oasis relief. Nothing Stands between dune and horizon. Mirage of my mirage remains Unknown.   Empty   And   Vast   The dry ocean shifts, Rolling with tides of no Consequence.

We are the things that fly between stars and hours. Fires which notice all that is large and small. Flickering lights particular and keen, Searching for lights like our own. Our curse: we spark fast, We fall slow, Forgetting in our decline Why we set a flare.  Many spirits die at smothered desks or tinderbox homes, Shifting through spaces And costumed lives.   Would you hold your composure now If…

Ocean water in the sink, I am sunk, salted waves in my lungs. On the brink of throwing up, The last option is drown in the sun. Air can’t help now, sixty-six percent of me kept wishing For a return to the only place water Is allowed to be loud.

With an Empty Bottle

I know how to smile properly. My body is mostly proportional. I’m not always factually smart, but I am conceptually smart. I don’t mind giving compliments, and it is impossible to tell the difference between the compliments I mean verses the ones I don’t. I’m decent at remembering what is important to my friends. I want to grow old next to an ocean, preferably the Pacific. I’m good at listening.…

I’m seeing double But less of you. Smoke lifts to the ceiling Curtaining a shit view.   Spirits all around me Claim heaven is here. So why the fuck Are my hands still reaching?   “Help me to make it. Help me to make it.”