Monthly Archives: March 2010


With her young embrace
she transformed his stiff, porcelain disposition
into a warm coffee nature.
We watched her through the tall library windows
as she pushed him in his creaky wheel chair
and told him childish stories.
It was the first time he’d laughed in years.

The hands of death that always had
such a firm grip on him were no longer present.
She had him walking with a cane
and writing long stories in his notebook
when we all thought he was absentminded.

None of us knew there was a family
that belonged to the tall white-haired man
who had lived here for so many tiresome years.


A Year of Waiting

Fall has its eagerness for what’s new.
Winter has its ache for a together.
Spring has its lust for living.
Summer has its passion of impermanence.


Tangled Up In This

I’m biting my lip terribly hard.
Not enough to bleed, mind you.
I’m not masochistic
but I need to release this
tension that coils within
and the twisty thoughts
that flit about like sand flies
over drying seaweed.

I want so badly to be angry.
I need hatred as a curtain
to keep out my bright hope
and forgiveness,
but I can’t seem to figure out
how to feel rage
when I need it the most.

If things could just get better
I wouldn’t feel so contained
and sit here biting my lip,
so frustrated by it all.


Let’s Talk In the Morning

After the fight
they laid facing opposite directions
trying to think of anything
but each other.
The headlights of passing cars
made moving pictures on their walls.
Everything felt like forever.
Loud sighs pierced the air
as if to say,
“I’m right, you’re wrong.”

If only they could fall asleep
to figure things out in the morning,
clearer minds and greater patience.

Fighting at night ruined
golden weekend rest
and morning spent under the covers
watching the sun slide through the blinds.


the silence after my heart stopped beating

I dreamed I was dying
and as my heart beat slowed
I only wished you were there
I only wished you would care.

I wanted to scream for your attention
like a child not held enough
but I could only whisper
I could only whimper.

You were not coming
I’d never see you again
I was only crying
I was only dying.

I woke up gasping
and as my heart beat slowed
I only wished you were there
I only wished you would care.


fields over my head, clouds under my feet

The clouds are moving so quickly overhead
it’s making me dizzy
to watch them pass.
I’m afraid I’ll lose my balance
and make grass stains on my jean knees.

I’m not sure why the grass is still wet
this late in the afternoon,
but I don’t mind
as long as I don’t fall.


Read These Lips

Over the loud acoustic guitar and echoing words of the grungy yet attractive lead singer he leaned over and said to me, “You know, none of their lyrics are at all original. They’re just repeating the cliches of life.” I hated when he made fun of the things I liked. It was always personal and intentional. I also thought he was entirely wrong. I said, “Lyrics aren’t always supposed to be novel and extreme. They’re just supposed to make you feel a part of a collective, in the best way. As if someone else in the world actually understands what you’re going through. No one likes listening to something they can’t understand or relate to whatsoever. I mean, I think life is about realizing that even though we’re all so drastically different we have this underlying core of the same emotions. We all know what it’s like to want to be saved when we’re lost, to want to be loved, what it’s like to be angry, and depressed, and overwhelmed with excitement. This band does that for me, they’re just like me.” He stared at me for a few seconds, taking in everything I had just said. And then he said, “I can barely hear you over the music, what’d you say?”


I Want You, But Not Like This

You were in the backseat, drunk as hell, as I drove you home through the snowy evergreens. I’d grown so used to being your chauffeur when you were too drunk that I slept in my clothes on the nights you went out with the boys. You’d text me incoherent messages until they woke me up at an hour of the morning that still felt like night and I’d drive to the bar you lived at more than your home.

Slurring your speech, you begged me to stay as I pulled into the driveway. You said I couldn’t leave you now, that you just wanted to fall asleep next to me. I hated you for getting drunk and making me feel like you loved me, I routinely fell for it. I could see that you only cared for me when you needed something from me, but I couldn’t bring myself to erase you from my life. I wanted and needed your love but you only needed my help.

You were too heavy for me to really support you but I kept you from falling on the icy cement and led you to your unmade bed. When you tried to pull me onto the bed with you I backed away. You stared at me, confused, unsure why I would try to refuse. I backed up into the cold wall of your room and you told me to stop being stupid and to come lay down next to you. Your eyes were bloodshot in the early morning light and your shirt was wet from some drink you spilled. I felt disgusted by you for the first time in my life as I saw what a mess you were. I grabbed the little trashcan from your bathroom and put it next to your bed then walked out of the room before my loneliness could change my mind. You called out to me but I could barely hear you as I walked out the front door. I sat in the cold silence of my car in the driveway for a few minutes to see if I was wrong, that you really did care for me, but you never came out.

I drove quietly away and away and away.


Face Like Glass

The fake smiles bruise
more than the tears.
Supposed to make me feel
The pretending will lead
to the real feeling
they said.
It’s clear they’ve never tried.

The fake smiles hollow me out.
Pushing down the frowns like
swallowed words.
They advise me to be
an actress of my own reality.
Well that won’t do.
I refuse to play the part.



So broken is the sky.
Calloused with
someone else’s judgement
and the days that never seem to end.

Imagine frozen mornings
and it’s like old age.
The nights beg for caffeine
and it forces them to erode
or shudder on their
deepy-grounded feet.

Looking for solace
they swim through the air
to be the stars
and feel underwater.