Flaw Salad

My god, it’s clinical the way I write about you. First this, then that, then something else. Facts in a line. The things that happened. You’re a screenplay.  He is a poem, and his hand on my shoulder, that one fleeting touch—I looked to his eyes and his great, wide smile, and I felt words… — read more

A new year. Fresh and blank. Blank. Your mind is blank. Your heart is blank.  Nothing, nothing, nothing. Dive into the warm, blue pool. Search there for something. Find the bottom. Smooth and blank. Your hands in your hair. Tugging. Pulling. Nothing. Lie down and breathe. Blank. You must do something. — read more

They tell you who you are. They come into your life, they have a look around, and they tell you who you are. You, the emotive one. You, the weak. You, the wise. You, the stronger than you realize. They know you so well after their little root around. Hogs, that’s what. They dig for… — read more

One day, she ran out of words. She reached down deep, and none were left in her. She said all the things a person could say, and she laid her head to rest. After a long sleep, she awoke to the same. She could no more tell the birds they were singing than she could… — read more