Poem: Desperation Days

Thursdays are desperation days
So close to the weekend they entice
To behavior better saved for Friday nights
I’m laying here half naked and half awake
Listening to breathing that’s not my own
Thinking maybe I made another mistake

Poem: Dear Friend

Dear friend
I know it’s been a while
Since I wrote you but I’ve been thinking
Of you again and what I wanted to say
I think I found my voice again
Hidden between these pages

Poem: One to Ten

One thing always stands out
Too sharply in the early morning
Three AM and I’m thinking again
For the love that we had back then
Five more minutes of punishment

Poem: Memories of Something that Never Happened

I never did get to kiss you
Though my body struggles
To accept that simple fact
My mind plays tricks on me
Where I think I can still feel
You lying in the wet grass
Next to me also shivering

Poem: Turnabout

Write out your pain for me
I want to see you bleed on
The page the way I have
Bled for you and your art
I want to know the shadows
Kept in the dark corners

Poem: 1:30 AM Wednesday

One thirty AM on a Wednesday
Is a terrible time to make decisions
Several drinks into a bad night
Shaping up to be a bad morning
Of vodka aspirin and self-loathing

Poem: Pushing Away

Touching her hand to her heart
She reaches out seeking arms
To hold her like she wants to be
Held in where she felt safe and
Warm and completely comfortable

Poem: Red Apple Flavored Regret

She offers me a red apple
After my second beer
And I shake my head
Less than her hand shakes
From the withdrawals

Short Story: Interlude to a Departure

“The fire escape is rusty,” Henry said.

“It always had been since we started sitting out here at age thirteen,” Jess responded.

“Five years on, other things have changed. The rising sun is threatening to take you. You’ll go, I’ll never see you again.”

“I won’t forget you.”

“Is what they always say.”

Poem: If Hurt Was

If hurt was a person it’d be you
Of all the broken bones
Fallen scraped knees
Wounds and scars I’ve earned
As parts of adventures or lessons
They’ve all healed eventually
Not you though
You are the hurt that persists