That we even met was against all odds, despite my name being there in the trees in the town where you lived. You drove by my name for years — “It’s a sign!” — but now the trees are dead, and will soon be gone.
I swear to myself I’ll be picky in chasing the new love of my life, swear to myself that next time I won’t compromise on my needs. I’ve been doing somersaults to just get you to want me; it’s backbreaking work, and I’d like to be done now.
It hurts to not feel … Read the rest
Get me out of here has been on my mind quite a bit these days. The urge to just get up and run out the door. I wouldn’t take a thing. Bags unpacked, purse abandoned, phone smashed, I’d run.
I’d speed down the highway heading west, hitting the low shoulders as I pass on the right, I’m in too much of a hurry for rules, as I’ve always been, and now it’s time to live my life.
But first, I have to find it.
Who the fuck am I?
Who the fuck am I to think I can just run … Read the rest
Sometimes a talk isn’t just a talk.
Sometimes you ask “What’s the matter?”
and then everything falls apart.
Sometimes you can’t un-say things.
Sometimes words hit your heart
and leave everything broken.
Sometimes, after, you make love,
and sometimes you don’t touch.
Sometimes life starts feeling like
one long sleepover because you are
always waiting for him to go home.
Today’s poetry prompt words were: what’s the matter, broken, and sleepover.
Photo by Jianfeng Yang on Unsplash
I feel like both the boat and the iceberg at once, the killer and the to be killed.
The killer didn’t know it was doing anything wrong. The killer was at peace in its ocean, hiding. You know, when they say “it’s just the tip of the iceberg” means you only see a little bit of the malice.
But then the boat comes, and with no slowing and no flexibility, she careens into the iceberg, breaking this peaceful beast to pieces.
It didn’t matter if the boat tried to take last minute extreme measures.
The iceberg was always there, and … Read the rest
I’m glad the days of casual dating are over, and there won’t be anymore awkward first times, or men who woo and ditch me, or worse, pretend that I’m interesting and then forget what I said.
I’ve been there, and give the whole thing zero stars. They say you can’t find a man at a bar, but how is finding one online better? It used to be such a foolish and dangerous thing.
But what is a life with no hope for more first kisses on Providence Street? Is it better to sleep comfortably with the same man every night, … Read the rest
