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Bygones Burn
Read more: Bygones BurnGrin and bear it, grin and bear it then into a mirror I stop and stare at it And wonder if the face I see bears my resemblance candidly I study long the one stood there eyes stinging red the more I stare But nothing ‘cept a guise to see Show me the truth, I beg, I plead Show me […]
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To My Late Hero, The Original Rockstar
Read more: To My Late Hero, The Original Rockstar“I would literally cut off my arm to have dinner with him.” “Seriously? That’s intense.”“Okay maybe not the whole arm, but definitely a finger or two.” I try not to be parasocial about celebrities, I really do. And for the most part I think I’ve been successful in that effort. However, there is one person in […]
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The Epilogue of the Kid
Read more: The Epilogue of the KidAt the sweetest age I found myself at an impasse that would inevitably curate my life’s permanent path. Reckless abandon met with a crippling curiosity and above all, a desire to feel level. To feel at ease. I couldn’t help myself; the looming illness and words like daggers from my father’s mouth: I was a […]
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You Turned Yourself Into An Effigy In Order For Me To Love You
Read more: You Turned Yourself Into An Effigy In Order For Me To Love YouYou turned yourself into an effigy in order for me to love you. In order for me to understand. You told me for the final time that if I did not want to accept this, your pleas and your begging, then I would no longer have to. And when I came back into the room, […]
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No Airbag, We Die Like Men
Read more: No Airbag, We Die Like MenSomething like a needle scraping the flesh that coats the inside of my skull. Etching, scratching, attempting to free itself from the confines. If I knew the way out I would tell it how, but I’ve been looking for that answer myself. Somewhere along the way I misplaced the directions, or perhaps they were never […]
Her Candid Altar
Sometimes the great bones of my life feel so heavy, and all the tricks my body knows ― the opposable thumbs, the kneecaps, and the mind clicking and clicking — don’t seem enough to carry me through this world and I think:From “Spring Azures” by Mary Oliver
how I would like to have wings — blue ones — ribbons of flame. How I would like to open them, and rise.
Her Candid Altar 