Posts from the “Uncategorized” Category

Used to Be

Posted on May 13th, 2018

This lightless realm is not new to me, and it welcomes its visitor with fog lazily grazing my cheeks, tasting as dew does. I walk through the wet soil and grass, heavy mud splattering and collecting between my toes and on the bottoms of my feet. My shoes seem to have disintegrated as I don’t recall removing them. Or perhaps I never wore them and left them with the sun. The temple I am searching for peels from the inside, widened around the cornered edges, and creaks a welcome upon approach. I can already hear the groggy black spiders with fuzzy abdomens and legs start their task of weaving fresh webs. I have seen these webs discarded and woven upon my exits and entrances.…

Walls

Posted on August 14th, 2016

When the night comes, I can see you wrap your hands together in the darkness. Your grip is loose and thoughtfully gentle. It seems a heavily practiced gesture, though it always requires substantial imagination. And you can pretend we’ve both just fallen asleep like that, as if always. At some point, inventing was all our bodies seemed able to do. Our voices became torn out, edited, and disputably false. We were precise and dishonest in every word, in our choices, in our inauthentic way to make unraveled threads into a comfortable living space. The weight from this has made uneven fragments from history. Chapters of stories get shredded into moments, which blur into feelings, eventually evaporating into this barren vacuum. You said the hardest part for…

Les Corps Blancs

Posted on February 17th, 2016

“Your accusations have finally drowned me! Your words spin and twist like spears, your finalities whip my flesh thin and tear out my organs! You point and gawk– my supposed friends! – and hiss your allegations[1].” – La Blanche   La Blanche is at her fortress where the walls are formed from one-way, orchid glass. She sits at a square wood table adjacent to the window and questioningly glimpses out at those twenty bodies that have surrounded her. She defocuses their sneers, furrowed brows, barred teeth, and she distracts herself from their proximity by ripping her lose nails from their beds. She recalls a youth that welcomed pain therapy, but she tells herself now that she’s too grown up for teenage angst. In her…

Toxin

Posted on August 19th, 2015

At the apple’s noisy core, there are seeds of arsenic. Not a fraction is left for the nosey flies because at the end of my life – at the close – the world will know my worth. There is a woman whose thoughts are the most alone. I have watched her throughout the days, walking the hallways, chin angled at the floors as she stops a door with a hesitant toe. Giving frail handshakes, her uneasy eyes squint out the bright window. She prefers the world clouded. When she sits, she keeps her unscathed feet on her heels so that her thighs appear thinner, and keeping her eyes at her scaly nailbeds, she avoids the reflective metal doors in the elevator on the way down.…

Close

Posted on November 12th, 2014

Lessons have slipped my mind and gravitated elsewhere. Some place mysterious, I hope. I couldn’t process how the earth – the clumps that I mashed between the crevices of my boots – was ultimately a sphere. There was nothing round at my core, certainly nothing as stable as a circle. As it became darker, I walked the midnight forests. I took the soil and rubbed it between my fingers and fleshed out my nail beds. I took muddy leaves and laced them between my toes as protection. I masked my face and thickened my clothes to eradicate my humanness. Smelling of the fleshless soil, I took handfuls and fed myself, sucking up the mud, blowing wiggly earthworms out from my nostrils. I let the…

Scoff

Posted on October 22nd, 2014

I love when people make the scoff face – the nonverbal scoff, the one you make when you’re in a heated argument, and you realize you have a valid point to add. But when you open your mouth and start with, “Well honestly…” the person you’re arguing with cuts you off with a, “Excuse me, let me finish!” You see they’re hell bent on getting their whole point out in one spittle. Damn you for not knowing they weren’t finished. So you close your lips, lean your head down, and turn a little to make it appear as if you want to hear them clearly. Yet all you’re really thinking is…“This bitch interrupted me. Look at me being the bigger person and just letting…

Skeletons

Posted on May 25th, 2014

Tut, Tut, Tut. I’m too easy to get along with. I think this is because my smiles are autonomic blinks. The walls of myself, transparent as they are, keep people in and out on command, for they are there for protection. I think I’ve decided what to do about her. Last night, in the dead of it, I was cleaning between the cracks’ cracks. The windows were closed and the ammonia began to become the air, flooding my body with each sweaty breath. In my dizziness, I knocked over the lamp, my only one, and it smacked the wood panels and flickered off. The darkness began to frighten me. I bravely swiped the floor around for the lamp. The bulb was hot and burnt…

A Charnel House

Posted on April 19th, 2014

The willowy thief, long-legged and tactile, moved her hands across the aluminum shelves of the misty greenhouse. Her greedy nose moved towards a fully blossomed flower, which she didn’t know the name of. She took a deep breath in and out against its stems. She continued her routine down the aisles. On her shoulder, staining the t-shirt she wore, was an olive tree frog beside the nape of her neck. His large eyes were closed, looking as if he was napping as lazily as possible. The floors were completely covered with a thick soot. Underneath the dirt was a rubber mat which caused her already light steps to bounce slightly, and she welcomed the lack of gravity to the greenhouse. The thief had lived…

Guts

Posted on February 19th, 2014

It was a walk the length of their lifetime, and still they weren’t able to get comfortable. The moon was daringly high, calculating their speed, and it noticed how the man didn’t have the limp-like saunter the woman had. She was holding back just a fraction, observing the weightless shoulders of her companion which led down to his spine. She raised her hand, then her finger, and drew a capital T from his left shoulder to the other and right down to his tailbone. Taylor! Did you know that, Taylor? Did you know your bones spell you out? She watched his bones through the back of his white shirt, which had an upside-down heart sewn into it with red fishing wire. Silently pulling at…

Your Rant

Posted on December 16th, 2013

Let’s talk about something else for a minute. Let us finally think about that thing that doesn’t really bother us. Because from the second you wake up to the moment you put your head back down again, your thoughts are so predictable. They’re these personal things, things that we may not share, but understand. And when you think about all those people in the world and how much you want to unravel their masks, you wonder, really wonder, if the things that baffle you, baffle them. Makes you feel closer and farther. Makes you feel small and centered. You think of what you are, what you’d like to be, then what others are, and you realize that change is this simple bend of the…