emily-webbWhisper

American
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01.You were light like tissue paper / Crackling and brightly colored / Falling in layers and tinting my space
17
Apr 11, 2010
02.One day I will find my way back to normality / With a glass in hand, holding the swills of selves / Whether I’m loose or on my toes
7
Apr 11, 2010
03.I was just silent. / And maybe it was mean to be so silent, but the weight of the future is just a little bit too heavy, and maybe I like you a little bit too much. / The best things were happening, but they were happening all at once, so that they were worst and all the colors were running together, making me feel like I was soon to need new glasses, or a new brain, or a whole new perspective.
4
Apr 11, 2010
04.This was the last time we had a routine. All the way back then, wearing big black rubber boots and cashmere scarves I can’t even think of wearing in the near future. It was a routine. You could count on it; guaranteed to inch you closer to handsandknees and sleepsixteenhours every time we saw each other. / It’s been a while since we had a routine, and now we just sit together sometimes and don’t know what to say. / I’m not like most people–I’ll admit to loving a good routine.
3
Apr 11, 2010
05.Our hollow tidal pools / Wash back and forth between / Stagnant and violent
18
Apr 11, 2010
06.In the cross of a catharsis / Clasped in hands too tired to understand / Here sit my mother’s worries
13
Jun 9, 2010
07.The sweetness in your laugh / Held all sorts of things / Like dandelion mornings and afternoons
17
Jun 9, 2010
08.Your words reflect off each other like blinding mirrors, amplifying your small interior sun. I sputtered out with those dying bursts in our so recent history, and maybe any glimmer that can now be found is a lost remnant, lightyears-old, reason not enough to strike out matches for me. Despite the dark, you do fine all by yourself. Your words, bounding off each other one by one by one, marking in relief with sharp cutting shadow my failing flame. On my knees, a tribute to what felt like fomer glory.
1
Jun 9, 2010
09.I want to live with you in a shotgun house / open the doors and let the breeze roll / through
19
Sep 13, 2011
10.across the table / you were / fingers laced
7
Sep 13, 2011
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