Writing, Ideas, & Stories
it was just a gesture
something simple;
but i hold it like a widow holds their child
something;
irreplaceable.
i wonder
what me now
would tell
a me
not ready to hear about the future.
at that time
the single grain of rice
had the weight of the world,
steamed
and afraid of loss.
i’d tell him
i think i’d tell him
you’re right
this loss,
won’t feel like another
because it was real.
modern warfare
is behind a keyboard-
twitter fingers;
have i-
i wonder
what the guy in the lemon jacket i saw at the movie theater
does on his free time.
the girl i saw in the polka dot dress eating a bagel outside of a ross
is insecure about.
have i ever
been so exposed,
bare skin riding the sun like a mechanical bull-
no.
i don’t think i’d buy the lemon jacket
if i saw it at a ross,
i’d stick out
but i’d try it on.
first idea
after we landed
was a cheeseburger
with grilled diced onions.
that detail was everything
yes you need a good burger
but without that singular topping;
i’d have passed on any other burger
there is a poison inside me
slithers through my fingers
fang mark lingers
slowly heavy
fist feel heavy
fist feel tightly around your throat
lips feel heavy
fang mark lingers
there is a poison inside me
slithers through our fingers
not the person; i use to be
now- when i see the ocean
i know it’s endless
–
the color blue, pops more
locks the door
drops the keys
and dances her hands
through crashing waves-
the color blue
her dress was see through
deep blue- a raft of bamboo
paddling an avenue
to you
sky blue to the north
fear of deja-vu
keeping you in my field of view
baby blue.
so you always cared
or did you just want your ass ate.
i remember
very little;
i loved the way
you carried my memories –
but after a while
i guess
you got tired.
it’s the sour first bite
that leaves your bottom lip split
between another
or something new-
to tiffany blue’s
sweet red wine’s hands
deep sinking beneath
another;
you lead me on
like a laser to a cat
i follow
into light screaming choir
or a darkened pit of nothing;
i’ll be you’re play thing
molly,
we’ve met before;
i know you don’t remember
it was a wild night-
but i think about you
the gated fence
the old school diner
& the watching naruto until midnight.
molly,
i’d like to visit again,
maybe on a weekend i have off
or at the next festival
just for a few hours
Saint's Muse 