allison-wrightWhisper

American
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Another MealSometimes we have dinner together. / All she can do is *talktalktalk* about food and her family’s obsession with food and how much she loves *pizzaicecreambeefchocolatepastadonutscheese* while she stares at her plate as her fork twirls the spaghetti around and around and around until it’s only particles, only dust, and somehow there will be a little less there than there was before but she'll be saying something about how it's *notasgood* as back home, back home where she must eat fifty meals a day with all the food she’s tried. / She isn’t fooling anyone and she knows it, but it doesn’t matter because it's the pretending that keeps her alive.
3
Oct 1, 2011
MonsterI wonder sometimes, where to go / what to do. / A slender spirit may oft appear
18
Sep 11, 2011
EmmaI never held his hand, in truth. / I never felt his eyes on mine, I confess. / I never walked beside, nor brushed past
7
Sep 11, 2011
Sustenance5:48 you saw me / crawling on a bed / moving with these creatures
24
Aug 14, 2011
The ThiefI don’t want to sit here anymore. / I'm done. / I won't come back.
18
Aug 14, 2011
Terms of EndearmentDon't. / There's a word for you, a word I like, a word you treasure. / *****
25
Aug 10, 2011
A Lovely ConceptHe doesn’t understand that everything I take from him is a story, every word floating through the air, another line. He doesn’t know that my open mouth is the pen, my rolling eyes, the style. It doesn’t occur to him that he doesn’t know a thing about what his daughter might be thinking, because if he did, he would know what kind of novel she writes. / She is hardly a professional. She cannot fully comprehend metaphor, symbolism, allegory. For her, it becomes like another soul's voice, a trembling thing filled with a measure of ambiguity and a touch of wisdom, but still distant, still muddled. A lovely concept existing solely for the purpose of distraction. / No, for her, poetry must make sense from the beginning; it must make sense to everyone. If it doesn’t, then it is only words, a mishmash of thought and action made to look attractive. It is simple: if she hears a work is bad, it is bad, if she thinks a thought is stupid, the thought is stupid. Her reality is the true reality, thus, words are only a reality if they are hers.
4
Aug 10, 2011
What RemainsOh, for the sea / ever weeping for the darkness. / Beneath its taunting skies so scarlet
9
Jul 22, 2011
Playing DeadIt's so hard to be what our parents want. / I can't stay. / To recite these prayers
28
Jul 18, 2011
Perfect InactionThere's a certain moment when you have to cry. / A certain word, a certain tone, a certain piece of **** / who can't wait to say how everything has gone to hell
29
Jul 17, 2011
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