August 4, 2014

Early mornings are ahead of me still my heart can’t handle what these eyes don’t see.

It’s crazy times, darling, and I know it’s hard to do
But let it slip, just one last time
And won’t you let love through

12:38pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZCS0Ew1NMAwpY
  
Filed under: text write goodnight prose 
August 3, 2014

These mornings, I’ve only half a brain.


And even when I do,

I still spend the whole half thinking of you.

7:58pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZCS0Ew1NIU6tY
  
Filed under: text write 
August 3, 2014
La Deuxième Partie

His words sprung

bottom up

with a biting

cold

listless

touch

"Please let the rain wash the filth that covers me; please let the sun boil the skin that is no longer mine. Please take me back to where it all came - let me weed out my desires before it will have turned to pain."

She was twenty one.

3:44pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZCS0Ew1NHFfTx
  
Filed under: text write literature 
August 1, 2014
This Was Supposed To Be Funny and NOT Poignant

In reference to my recent tweet – I will one day write a book about how the best of friends I’ve ever made were from the oddest of situations. These are fictional (or non-fic, you decide - ) accounts of what really happened.

1. The click and clatter of their home computer went on til about 3 in the morning. This wonderful new thing – the Internets – has gone from bringing new knowledge, to taking over the tangible social structure and turning it to Friendster, to stealing what little sleep I have, these nights.

 Ana, labeled, multimedia student, it said, expensive-school-you-wanted-to-go-to-but-your-parents-couldn’t-afford-it, showed the logo.

Click.

Common friends.

2. His face lit up a certain way on early mornings like these; the musky scent of his skin and breath consumed me as I rolled over to see the clock on his side of the bed. 9:45am - they should be here by now.

I didn’t want to wake him up; I never really do – not when I’m able to keep him close enough this way so much so that I can fool myself into thinking that he was mine. The sheets tangled between his bony knees, my skin so presently pressed against his, and I swam in his calm, slumbering depths, and lie awake for a few more moments before

A ring

A pause

A ramble of morns

A run for the bathroom

A run for the main door

I followed down the stairs fixing over a shirt I found on the floor. The balls of my feet felt cold. The semi-familiar face I saw from the other end of the room brought warmth.

 

 

2:41pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZCS0Ew1N650SZ
  
Filed under: text write 
July 29, 2014
Sleepwalker

She barged into my room uninvitedly and took over spaces I didn’t need to fill.

She took it and it overflowed.

She clasped the hair behind my head and murmured warmth into my bones until I knew of nothing but to long for her.

She danced and crumbled beneath my sweaty palms and fell across my skin like the beaming, first of sun.

Then she sleepwalked away, and further beyond, until my heart could no longer take, the deafening silence of sundown when all I wanted was for her to stay.

12:27pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZCS0Ew1MqLkrr
  
Filed under: text write 
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