flies.
but memories
have an awful habit
of remaining still, frozen,
unwilling to change or be forgotten.
Dec 9, 2016
Dec 9, 2016 at 1:21 AM UTC
"Jump!" my little brother yells.
"Jump!"
I smile at him and tap the rain water
with my boot.
"No, jump!" he yells again,
splashing through the rain.
I laugh at his excitement.
"Perhaps another time," I say, and we promptly
circle around the puddle
and go on our way.
Sep 19, 2016
Sep 19, 2016 at 2:41 AM UTC
I look back on all of our conversations
and all I see are apologies.
They were all one sided.
Pleas, really.
They fell from my mouth,
and escaped through my fingers.
I lost them. They left me
to meet you.
The regret was everywhere.
I fell into its puddles often.
You said you were sorry once--
no, twice.
I will not apologize.
You fell once.
I got up twice.
If I dug deep enough maybe
I would find them again
and slowly take
my apologies back.
They shouldn't belong
to you.
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 12:08 AM UTC
I have revised love letters
to contend with the headers
to change always and forever
to thanks for the effort.
© Matthew Harlovic
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 5:28 PM UTC
he texted her.
and she waited for the jump,
the butterflies,
the weird flip her stomach
would do at the sight
of his name
on her phone.
he texted her.
she waited for a physical
reaction.
like a boiling *** of water
that overflows,
or an outlet that sparks
when someone carelessly
plugs something in.
where were the bubbles?
where were the sparks?
he texted her.
she picked up her phone.
she looked at it.
she got distracted by another
message from her friend.
he texted her.
the world kept spinning.
and that's how she knew.
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 12:06 AM UTC
what is worse for a dandelion?
to lose its soft, seedy ball of cotton,
blown into the wind
by a whispering dreamer?
or to fail in granting the wish
of a small child, too young to realize
that a dandelion is only a pretty little ****
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 11:46 PM UTC
he's black, white,
and read all over
by acquaintances in his
circumference of people.
but no one asks,
no one takes the time,
to inquire behind
the gray mix of his
black and white appearance.
perhaps he's a light blue,
or a pretty yellow
that mistakenly ran into
some gray along the way,
but no one knows
because they'd rather spend
their sunday morning judging
a black story on a white page
than exploring the vast depth
of an intricate person.
Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 10:40 AM UTC
just like I promised I would.
I found it yesterday, in the
beginning pages
of this journal you gave me. There was
a scrawled note under the only line,
with a careless rectangle drawn around it.
I must've written the note quickly,
a few days after you dropped
me off for the last time.
"I'm sorry I never finished it,"
I wrote. And I am.
I'm sorry I never finished it for you
to see. I hope this one will do.
Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 11:16 PM UTC
let go of the things not meant for you,
but hold on tightly to the things that are.
allow yourself to feel the pain when your heart biffs it,
but don’t let the pain hinder your growth.
you are an open wound.
the rain will sting.
but the blood will always wash away.
Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 6:14 PM UTC
I want something that I cannot have. I cannot have it because I don't truly know what it is. I've seen it polished and propped as if it were on display and I've heard the stories of how much time and effort it took to make it look as such. But I want it. I want love. I want the idea of it at least.
I want the fights brought about by events simpler and less important than the time we wasted to have them. I want to be pained by the sight of her pain and know that the feeling of knives piercing my chest when I see her cry is there because I would literally drive them there myself, if only to prevent her tears.
I want our laughs to intertwine over the smallest things and our conversations to stretch our minds over the biggest. I want to see you sleep at night and I'll smile because I know that you're finally at peace. And I want you to smile when you wake up because you know that I'm fighting to make your reality better than your dreams.
I want love. I want romantic love, I want crazy love. I want passion. I want to pick you up in my arms and in that brief present get lost in your presence. I want to be in you when I am in you and have you wish that I would stay forever. I want to be in your heart and mind, and I want our love to be torturous and blind.
I just want love. I want the idea of it at least.
Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 12:49 PM UTC