Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Kellin Sep 2018
has no meaning
when you’re living in the
moment. i wasn’t ready
for that moment to end.
Kellin Sep 2018
every lump in this mattress
a boulder against my back,
every wrinkle in the sheets
a two-by-four in my shoulder,

sleep denied by the fear
of what tomorrow’s visit
will bring. i squeeze my eyes
shut, try to focus instead

on the events of today,
find some relief, conjuring
her face. but then
visions of another face come,

black and white, frame by
frame, like in an old film noir.
dark, my love for her was very
dark, a source of secret shame.

i get out of bed, go to
the window, look out on
a surreal scene- moonlight,
and its muted glow, hints

of lacy flakes.
Kellin Sep 2018
through the thickening
vespers
the clock on my wall
whispers.

tick-tock. tick-tock.
intones
the passage of time
drones.

inhale. everything
slows.
exhale. the exchange
shallows.

heartbeats mimic,
tick-tick.
become erratic, stutter,
t-t-tock.

through the indigo.
down.
gradual motion.
i drown.
Kellin Sep 2018
Like i’m here, but i’m not.
like someone cares.
but they don’t.
like i belong somewhere
else, anywhere but here,
and escape lies just past
that snowy window,
cool and crisp as the February
air. i consider the streets
beyond, bleak as the bleached
bones of wilderness
scaffolding my heart.
just a stone’s throw away.

but she’s out there,
stalking me, hunting me.
i know she can’t get me
in here. besides, i’m too
tired to pick myself up
and make a break for it.
so i just sit here, brain
wobbling. tripping.
tripping on prozac.
Kellin Sep 2018
because
i think if
you die
without
knowing

love in
this life,
that’s how
you’ll
spend
eternity.

alone.
frozen.

do you
think ****
is fiery?

i don’t.
i think
**** is
frozen.
Kellin Sep 2018
But find no comfort
in its feathers and patchwork.
despite the wine and rich
food, breaking down into calories,
i feel cold, way deep inside,
and it’s the kind of cold
that can’t be fought

with Hollandaise or alcohol
or a pile of quilts. i wish i had
a joint. a big, fat, stinky j to slide
me into sleep. but no, all i
can do is lie here, brain
turning summersaults.
it’s nights

these when memories
stir, whipping themselves
into stiff peaks of pain. here
comes one now, materializing
like Daddy did that night.
the night he came to
me, crossed
the final line.
Kellin Sep 2018
i took off all my clothes
looked straight at the mirror and repeated
i love myself
i love myself
i love myself
as if i truly believed it
like a stranger in my skin i imagined what other people see
the words blended together and melted like butter
my mind tricked itself into thinking i had never looked at my reflection and thought it was gross i made myself lie
and then i put my clothes on
brushed my hair
and turned off the light.
Next page