You don't deserve my tears,
but I cannot stop crying.
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 4:11 PM UTC
We discovered that this thing is a date.
Thank God.
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 7:06 PM UTC
His body is covered in words.
From head to toe.
Etched into his palms.
Blanketed his chest.
Down his thighs and
around his rib cage.
They are everywhere.
His body is the canvas for
Every word and phrase he has ever spoken.
Rain.
It.
Big.
Blanket.
Her.
Finger.
Like.
Leaf.
****
Said.
Cat.
I.
Millions upon millions of words
Carved in 2 point font.
They just appeared.
Every word he has ever uttered.
There is no shying away, no hiding.
They are there.
Forever.
Some make him proud.
"I'm glad I said that at that moment at that time at that place to that person."
Some make him sad.
"I regret that I said that at that moment at that time at the place to that person."
Words make up his body.
They shape it.
They define it.
They build it.
and together,
they form his story.
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 1:10 AM UTC
I have been challenged to write my story.
It's beautiful.
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 12:56 AM UTC
And suddenly,
it dawned on me.
My lack of feeling.
It was because
He wasn't You.
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 5:05 PM UTC
'Soon it will be over,'
she said into the silence.
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 10:22 PM UTC
Only when you can't sleep
do things begin to unravel.
Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 10:42 PM UTC
I'm not the prettiest girl in the room.
But you better believe
I'm the most
clever,
confident,
comfortable,
compassionate person you'll talk to all evening.
Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 10:35 PM UTC
why does
my mother assume
when i write in first person,
the words on the
page
automatically
make up
a biography.
in this case,
however,
she probably should assume.
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 10:37 PM UTC