my name is grace ( Read more... )

let me tell you about her ( Read more... )

everything had poetic resonance to you. you were one of those kids who searched for the whys and the whences and it made you a better writer but a harder person to know. because there was no in between with you, it was either rock bottom or somewhere close to. i always had to smile around you and act enthusiastic because i couldn't be the reason ( Read more... )

i can see it all you know, all your little aches and pains and imperfections that you spill out for someone to help you with because private journals are for closure and this is far from it. this is me telling you what we were, telling you santa isn't real, there's no such thing as forever and in time we all die. you know that better than most but ( Read more... )

This is a timesuck, a guilty double-sinus headache. I can taste the lie you need leaving my lips but I can't bring myself to care that it burns like acid on my tongue. Every bone is lethargic so the speakers try their best to blast the feeling back. You always leave me wanting less every time you ask for more. I don't know what to give, you take ( Read more... )

Something's wrong when the Wordsmith can't shape the sounds so this must be code red. All I am and all I ever will become is nothing more than blistered palms for holding on. Tearing pages like the eyes trained on you and past because we're all just staring into space. Take the praise, if it means that much, if it makes it not my fault that I don't ( Read more... )

One time I tried to write about airports. It's hard because they're lost places and found places. It's purgatory and the pearly gates. The beginning and the end of the adventure. Hazed over by tired eyes, dark circles and burnt by fluorescent lights. No matter what I write it turns out to be the same. I thought there were more metaphors in there. ( Read more... )

I'm at home but I feel like I shouldn't be. Reflecting on places I've been with people who almost worked but padlocked doors inside. First the cold, then the sleet, the snow, the blizzard. Maybe. Hearts warmed up while the air froze. Touristy sleigh bells in a city that's seen it all before hosting kids a long way from home. What if I blurred it ( Read more... )

This is a post about getting over it ( Read more... )

You cannot win. Never completely ( Read more... )