1. Very unfinished

    Woodchips scratch the inside of my knees.                                                          My hair is covered in dirt.                                                                                 “I love you,” I say. 

    My shoulders are pinned down on an oilcloth motel sheet.                                       Your sweat drips on my face; my eyeliner’s running.                                                ”I love you,” I say.

    We eat cereal for breakfast.                                                                              You’ve got a hangover from the night before.                                                      You owe me fifty bucks. Still, I love you.                                                 

    The second time you get drunk, I can’t even cry.                                                 Still, I tell you I love you.                                                                                         

    3 years ago  /  0 notes

  2. How to be Depressed

    1. Wear sour-smelling pajamas for at least two days.  Don’t take them off.

    2.Spend sleepless nights watching reality TV reruns.

    3. Ruminate about your pitiful life.

    4. Cry.

    5. Stare at the TV until you stop thinking about your pitiful life.

    6. Feel mildly comforted by your disgusting pajamas.

    7. Feel disgusted by your comfort.

    8. Cry.

    3 years ago  /  0 notes

  3. Martha

    Ballet exercises in the
    Morning. Studying in the
    Afternoon.  Bottled
    Water all day.

    She makes an excuse
    Not to eat her pasta.
    "You always were a princess,"
    Dad says.

    Nights- writing letters
    To an older boyfriend.
    Staring out the window.
    Hamstring stretches.

    4 years ago  /  0 notes

  4. Losing My Virginity

    Mostly I just lay there
    And waited for an orgasm
    To magically descend

    4 years ago  /  1 note

  5. Artemis and Actaeon in the Suburbs, aged 12

    Skinny-dipping in the pool
    The boys and waterguns behind the trees.
    Long hair floats up in the water.

    The boy comes from behind,
    Jumps to the fence.

    "Actae’s a fag!"
    She yells.
    The boys turn the guns on him.

    4 years ago  /  0 notes

  6. Sixteen

    I read
    into the

    I listened
    the same songs
    on repeat.

    I ate
    for dinner.

    I fell
    in love
    with my
    best friend.

    4 years ago  /  2 notes

  7. One poem

    The Science of Too Much

    Late nights are spent wandering the dark rooms of the apartment
    Cupping a tumbler of bourbon. Step lightly on the floorboards
    As to not wake your lover. The kitchen table is littered
    With dirty dishes, food wrappers, poorly done collages.

    The mornings come blearily with a potfull of coffee
    And awkward goodbyes. Clothes, makeup, out into the cold
    For another day. Life is the thin ice underneath
    Your shoes; it fractures into infinite patterns.

    4 years ago  /  0 notes

  8. One poem

    To My Friend

    I’ll never know
    What’s in your head.
    I’ve stopped
    Chattering to you
    And I just let
    Crickets and car engines
    Fill the air
    Between us.

    4 years ago  /  1 note

  9. Microfiction

    New Year’s Day

    He stared out the window at the snow and snuffed out his cigarette in a too-full ashtray.  The pale sun was finally coming up and casting sharp shadows of the pile of dirty dishes against the kitchen table.  “I’m alone,” he realized, as he leaned back in the wooden chair.

    4 years ago  /  0 notes

  10. One Poem

        Five Scenes about You

    The woman on the train says,
    "Your hair is the same color."
    You grab a strand of mine and compare.

    We sit on a park bench.
    It’s early November. Your jeans
    Make a scratchy sound rubbing against my tights.

    Your hands are big and never
    Cold. I hold them up to warm
    My face when I come inside to see you.

    I lean against you, my knees
    Tucked in between my chest and yours.
    "You look so small like that."

    The day after you leave, I find
    Long red hairs in my bed.  Mine
    Or yours?  I don’t change my sheets for weeks.      

    4 years ago  /  2 notes