February 2012
1 post
2 tags
Go, With Them
Nose bleeds and chapped lips that was all and we couldn’t be happier.
January 2012
2 posts
3 tags
Self Actualization
The first time I ever saw marijuana, I was in the tenth grade. I was in Baton Rouge, staying with my Rastafarian cousin—a nutrition major at Louisiana State University. We were talking and he asked if I wanted to smoke, I said no, and then he and his friends all sat in a circle and began passing around a blue pipe. When they finished, the one girl that was there took-off all her clothes,...
3 tags
Self Actualization
The first time I ever got drunk, I was in ninth grade. It was on some top-shelf shit, and I had no idea how to take a shot of Patron without looking like a complete bitch. I remember lying in the front yard of a friends house, staring at the starry night sky and clenching onto the grass…just hoping not to float away. A friend told me, “You know…cows eat grass to sober-up.”...
December 2011
2 posts
under the pecan tree
we spoke to each other through notes, on loose leaf paper, for fear of our voices forcing to birds to flee. each line written in the old and brittle crayons we found in a tin with photos of your grandmother before she was so grand. you wrote, “i don’t want to forget how to fly.” “but…all children grow-up.”
undertow
bottled it up prayed that you’d help me with the logistics of setting everything free ‘cause you told me “It gets harder to breathe and when you need it most you’ll know when to… be me.”
October 2011
1 post
3 tags
Break me down For fear I have gotten Too tall.
August 2011
2 posts
4 tags
Like Eagles
What was it like… The moment you let-go? The moment you slipped away? Did you watch us, Clinch our fists And pray in circles? Were you there When I screamed curses At the summer night sky? How did it feel To leave all these people behind? When did you whisper “It is finished?” Cause the Earth hasn’t stopped Quaking. And the sky hasn’t quit Cracking. I’ve been...
Goodbye to Savannah, a city built upon her dead, a city of strangers and angels, a city cursed—to stay beautiful.
July 2011
4 posts
3 tags
All in a Rain Cloud
I thought about you, as I normally do, on my drive home. Maybe because it’s the few moments I have to myself; or maybe because driving at night was something we frequently did. Those grey eyes seemed to reflect the glow of the southern summer night so well. I haven’t visited where the six of us laid you in the ground. The thought of you being somewhere forever seems...
Persephone
Sometimes It’s only because of the morning fog, That hangs In the needles of the pines, I realize how long you’ve been Gone.
For Natalie. Now, wild eyed as ever. →
quietlittlethings:
When we broke-up, an eternity ago, my mother made me keep all of our photos and knick-knacks. She said, “You’ll need these one day. Your first love is special and someone you’ll always love, even if you hate her guts now.” I kept all of it, stored away in an old shoe-box I keep under my bed. It’s…
June 2011
1 post
2 tags
Life with Gaga and PBR
Every weekend, since April, is just a drunken blur…This realization has convinced me to create a list:
I really should have done rush week, now I’m gonna be a weird sophomore pledging with a bunch of freshmen.
I really hate when people say, “What’s your major?” Everyone knows you don’t care, and everyone knows that it really doesn’t matter…when...
May 2011
1 post
March 2011
2 posts
Legs
I thought about doing it again, But instead I opened a book.
2 tags
I’ll be back soon, I promise.
February 2011
1 post
“I watched her jump, the seams burst, Feathers filled the small room. Our...”
– Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Johnathan Foer
January 2011
1 post
You
No matter how many times
I call
We talk
We see one another
Or I visit,
You’ll always be
The same.
Never changing
Its always the
Same
You.
December 2010
4 posts
5 tags
Secular
You tend to gage the seasons on the Colors that find their way Into my hair. A skill picked up from me, From the days When I would count down days through the Edges of swords that line your Calloused-cauliflower eyes. So I may knit you a blanket of threads— As fine as the floss I use to clean The empty spaces between your bones— All to keep you safe and shrouded From the world Pining...
8 tags
Grave, Robbers
There was that night She came and stole me away From my family and we Left to visit her mother, Carefully placing multi-colored Christmas lights on her grave, Carefully sipping out of our Coleman mugs Filled to the brim with a mixture of Marshmallow froth and hot chocolate. This is how I hope to remember you, Lying there—hiding under a night sky With the Winter colored clouds Wishing us...
5 tags
Waves of Decades in Colors
There’s so much that I’ve learned— From these teen slasher films And nights spent chewing our flavorless gum— Like how to properly break picture frames; Sinking the photos in flames, Only to build memories out of the broken glass and, Making electricity out of the condensation That creeps and takes-over the lenses; Covering your eyes. The Lesson of the strophe and...
4 tags
Real
I just brushed my teeth and took my vitamins Hoping my hair will grow and My blankets will keep me warm Because you had a tattoo sketched Across your chest that read Real In cursive, dressed in black, But what was Real. What were you trying to define With the ink etched in your skin? Last week I went searching for you In novels and poems and haiku Drove down roads and slept in The same beds...
November 2010
6 posts
4 tags
I want to know what is made of gilded brass and...
“Just remember that the things you put into your head are there forever…”
– “The Road,” Cormac McCarthy
2 tags
6 tags
Comforters and Eyelids
I’ve been living in my dreams for what seems like centuries, attempting to pick up the things I’ve lost in my past; experiencing things I am far too afraid to embrace. Sometimes I awake with immense joy for what the world has in store, but other times like today I am forced to tears. I had a dream about love, but a love I will never experience. A love that was real, messy, and...
5 tags
“Sometimes when I cant fall asleep I wrap up...
6 tags
Home
Bare feet on asphalt The water-guns Zach’s mom bought. Moth-eaten sleeping bags We un-folded to sleep under the Spanish Moss That fishing pole you broke, And the on that got pulled into the pond My guitar in its soft-case Kaci’s uke in its. Those old bikes My father and I spent weeks repairing The blisters Natalie got from Cheap five dollar flip-flops. The books I gave Mason That he...
October 2010
15 posts
7 tags
6 tags
2008
You hid me in your Bathroom for days at a time Kept secret behind the Deodorants and fragrances. Learning how to escape. Crawling through the pipes That riddled the insides of those walls. Teaching me how not to lose my hair, Or go grey. Forgetting the lessons from Sunday mornings, Because when you’re older Those mornings are for driving. Yes, it was there, in your bathroom Where I lost what...
7 tags
This will always remind me of the girl who...
8 tags
Walk With Your Head Down
That feeling of running into Someone from your past And running away. When the memories rush Back into your mind Searching for the place they Once called home, And they get lost, Then they find your heart, And get trapped in the Maze of valves and pumps. With each lub dub They grow— The space gets smaller— Until it bursts And no longer are you Forced to hold the pain hidden. Because...
6 tags
“Tonight, Tonight” by The Smashing...
8 tags
Headache; The Sick Day
They’re crawling all over me, Their words and secrets There, on my skin. They’re trying to reach my ears. Their poison spreading—forming new fears. There, in my brain. They’re burning the old bridges. Their fire, forming black stains. There in my brain, where they now reign.
4 tags
“The First Full Moon” by Sufjan...
7 tags
Where is Your Hand
Sometimes I let the paper break my heart. Sometimes it’s the cans. Sometimes it’s the cake. Other times it’s the lyrics, If it’s not the music. Sometimes it’s you, Or her, Or even him. Sometimes it’s the painting Hanging above my bed, Or the scenes I let repeat in my head. Sometimes it’s the dirt Under my fingernails, If it’s not the smudge On my...
7 tags
On Chewed Fingernails and Cork Coasters
Chug that Mountain Dew; Let the caffeine infuse with your genes. Smash that roach in the Bathroom; Let the legs twitch for a week or so. Unload the dishwasher; Let the misplaced knife puncture your skin. Turn the air down; Let the artificial cold rattle your bones. Walk, briskly, late to class; Let the jagged concrete trip you up. Steal the waitress’ last pen; Let the guilt of petty...
3 tags
“What we are reluctant to touch often seems the very fabric of our salvation.”
– White Noise, Don Delillo
4 tags
I was taken for all the things that I never had...
6 tags
A Southern Home
Broken light-bulbs. Tangled weeds. Scrapped magazines. Mangled Metal. Shattered records. Rotten preserves. Remnants of human life; Signs of a quick getaway Anything but clean. The years have drained The old house of the Life that once filled it. No more grandchildren To sleep on the floors With cousins and hused scerets. No more wood, does the old man Chop and place, to burn, In the stove Kept in...
8 tags
Someone in Your Head
Conceive Exit Breathe Cry Drink Eat Crawl Walk Speak Learn Read Write Work Live Struggle Rejoice Sleep Die Rot Rot Rot Rot Etcetera.
5 tags
The Purging of Judges
The books, They speak of me; Whisper all about me. They heckle, Saying how I’ll never be Wrapped-up in paper, Bound in leather, Or held with glue. They tell me to stop— That these attempts are futile. One by one They come down. In a box they go, Then into the flame I throw. Their crackling screams are heard As their ashes fly like birds. Their insults never slow. Until the fire begins...
September 2010
9 posts
6 tags
Ode to Buena Vista
Kudzu devoured this place. Swiftly, it strangled the life From this town Of farmers and mill workers. The savior for a Dying town, it seemed, Caused its ultimate demise. It grew from house to house, Locking the residents inside— Where more Kudzu Began to grow. Soon it became commonplace, And obscured the once Beautiful View. The houses were not enough. The mills that lined the river Went...
2 tags
“All I can do is keep...
7 tags
Spirit; The First of The Fall
He walks across the green and sits. He pulls out his notebook and pen, All from his tan and dirty canvas bag; And He begins to create, To write, To muse, To sketch, To paint, To destroy. My heart begins to ache. I know His pain, His sketchbook screams it all. I learn his secrets As the pen paints out The epic of His life. Ashamed, His hand covers the tablet— The portrait he is...
7 tags
Shadow Puppets
Shadows On the wall Tell me Secrets of all. Screaming, In my ears, Making sure Someone hears. So I capture All their fears With my net Of paper, Always to be kept As my life saver.
3 tags
“I can see a lot of life in you.”
– Sufjan Stevens, “The Dress Looks Nice On You”
7 tags
“Oh, is this your buried treasure? The light in the heart.”
– Virginia Woolf