Log in

Previous 10 | Next 10

May. 6th, 2009


Best Friends

She had pushed her bed against the wall in an attempt to give the room more floorspace.  It was probably the best way to do it, but she hadn't really thought it through.  It was compulsive. Now, she lay under the coverlet as close to the wall as possible, her shoulders, butt, and thighs pressing against the cool, whitewashed surface, face buried in a pillow.  She wasn't asleep, but when I spoke her name she didn't reply, so I said it twice.  Maybe she had been crying, but when she looked up, her face gave no such indication, though she looked tired for someone who had  wrapped herself in a blanket for most of the day.  I suspect she wasn't capable of tears, that they had been stolen from her eyes once puberty hit, and she never cared enough to get them back.  

I walk to her, and turn on the lamp beside the bed.  I ask her how long she's been there.  Not even an hour, she lies, I'm really tired and I'm trying to get some sleep.  I tell her I think we should talk about this, can I make her some tea? No, she's tired.  I'm your friend, it's alright, I want to help you.  No, she's about to fall asleep.  In the morning, it's not important, it can wait.  Alright, I say, it is important, but still, it can wait.  

Good night.  
Good night.

After turning off the light, I go for the door.  As it closes, I hear one low sob. Dry, sad and faint but she doesn't need me, so I walk away.

Summer Strawberries

 The only time I saw a bear,
there were two - a mother and a cub.
I was probably four and
even thought it was far away
I screamed because
I was scared
and they ran, and
everyone was mad but
Dad hugged me in the summer heat.

When I was eight,
I broke the butter dish,
it slipped out of my hands, wet from the sprinkler.
It was plain but it was the first time
I cried because I broke something
even though my mother wasn't mad.
I felt like I should, 
to show I was sorry.

At thirteen, I remember
going to the community pool
with my best friend where
she slipped and 
fell, just like a character in a cartoon.
We were at an age where we didn't know if
we should laugh or cry,
We found it funny.

After my senior year,
I cut strawberries in the summer heat
for my favorite breakfast.
I cut them, quickly,
I must have been in a hurry,
and then the blade dropped,
barely missing my bare foot,
Old age will be the sharpest edge of all.

(no subject)

I fell sleep.
I always heard them say
You Slip Into Blackness but I
slipped into green,
my favorite color.
The green turned to 
a grassy meadow
where little daisies danced around me.
I sat up and made them into a crown,
and then I woke up
because it wasn't time for The End.

Apr. 18th, 2009


Awake, Again, at 4AM

Deep in the city
I wedge myself between
the ceiling and the floor.
I am sitting in this tiny room but
I am back
at the lake
where I am on the pebbled shore,
watching the quiet lap of calm waves
and smooth moonbeams
bouncing off the still water.
Though he ought to be sleeping,
a trout nips at an insect
shattering the glassy calm.

Apr. 7th, 2009


The Moon Broke Open and Cried

A tear drop into Cresent Lake,
and then it rains in the Hoh Forest and
in the morning, fog hangs between curtains of moss.
Silence, until the wind off the Pacific
rattles the branches and
a woodpecker starts knocking on an insect's front door.
The mountains bleed glacial rivers,
with an Olympian current that rolls rocks downstream.
The sun set over foam riding the waves, then
the moon broke open, and cried thousands of tiny pearls.

(no subject)

There's a guy that looks like you. He lives on the fourth floor of my building.  I've seen him around, and every time I do I notice the similarities.  I guess mostly he's your height.  You're more attractive (I jump to the shallow conclusion because that's all we ever were).  But I mention it because I'm in no way attracted to your look-a-like. Whereas, you... Anyway, he's always kind of reminded me of you, but last night after practice I got in the elevator and he was there, wearing a Five hat.  A Five hat! Isn't that the only brand you ever wear? And this guy who lives in my building and looks like you also dresses like you, wearing a fairly unique brand that really only ultimate players wear.  But he's not on the men's team, because if he was, he would have just been getting back from practice, too. But he was in jeans. I don't know who he is. God, I hope he's not related to you.  That would just be too weird.  

But my mouth fell open, and for a minute I was worried.  Then I remembered you're in another state, where you belong.

I am

I am the enemy of chance.
I am the enemy of circumstance.
I relish preparedness but
long for spontaneity.

She Just Couldn't Help Herself

Fighting truth till the death,
a worn-out battle reduced to
tears and anger and yelling and
there was no stopping her.

New attacks become old, compulsive,
parried by old scars.
The battle field is numb,
a stalemate.

But the tide has changed,
I am the enemy, and
her lies are fabricated almost instantly.
I struggle to counter.
She tells one more fatal fib.
Small, but significant.
She just couldn't help herself,
and I finally fall.

Jan. 22nd, 2009


Golden Days

She spent her youth hating the dry, ancient land.
She had knelt, praying for rain,
a break in the monotony of sun and golden dirt,
to fall down, to splash everything with gray.
Flash floods that erased
paths left by wary animals,
torrents that sent lonely tumbleweeds on their journeys,
rolling lazily across the blacktop.
Driving down the highway
she would swerve
to avoid the tangled, dry masses
as though the old red jeep
would crumble upon impact.

Jan. 19th, 2009


(no subject)

Orion stands in the sky
and I think about how
I heard I wouldn't see you
this summer.
So I look back to dark pavement
and walk down my driveway.

Previous 10 | Next 10