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I stood at the top of the stairs, waiting & watching,

to see his car come winding around the bend,

up to our street and into the driveway.

Filled with anticipation & mischief, I listened quietly for his footsteps,

the jingling of his keys, as he unlocked the front door.

There I stood, hidden, trying not to breathe,

as I listened to him slowly climb the stairs, feet weary from the day.

Full of hope and excitement I jumped out,

'Boo!' I gleefully shouted, with a smile perched on my lips.

Time stood still, if but for a moment,

searching his face, I focused in on his eyes.

Expecting to see joy and amusement,

instead I was confronted only with a frown of annoyance.

My smile departed almost as quickly as it had arrived.

Filled with disappointment, as I watched him move past me, not even touching.

Down the hallway to his room, briefcase in hand, shutting the door behind him.

Leaving me at the top of the stairs,

with a hole in my heart.
The internet, social networking, you, reading this, now.


It’s all about surface value, the judgment of likes and dislikes. It’s all about interests,


"Oh, you like this band?
this movie,
this painting,
this author,
this show,
this *******?"

"Oh, you’re so cool, you’re such an awesome person", obviously.

You will never know me, never know who I am, and with the way this world has shifted,
with the acceptance of this voyeurism of superficial attractions, I’m afraid neither will I.

You’ll rarely know when I’m genuine or when I’m plagiarizing, original or manufactured, real or phony.
But that’s alright, it keeps a distance, it keeps things calm, and safe, and clean.

That’s all we really want. A facade, a dream, the image of our desires, not the manifestation.
We want cold, hard, unbreakable, shiny plastic perfection.

No one wants the warm, moist, moving, ever changing mess that is life, and love, and humanity.

So stay at your computer, stay inside your factory, keep typing instead of talking,
keep pushing instead of feeling, keep staring instead of looking.

It’s okay, it’s alright, it’s now.

*circa 2009
 Jul 2013 claire darling
MITCHELL
I want to sit on your shoulders
And laugh at the earth
Just like all the stars
 Jul 2013 claire darling
marina
during summer, we avoided the ocean
because it reminded us how
small we really are, and instead of singing
lullabies to drift away in waves of sleep,
we sang all night long to stay awake
for fear that if we let ourselves go, we'd have nothing
left to rise for by morning

(i never closed my eyes, but i had one
hell of a dream)
 Jul 2013 claire darling
marina
every poem i was afraid
to write ended with
you.
(and even still, it's all i want)
 Jul 2013 claire darling
AJ
Son
 Jul 2013 claire darling
AJ
Son
Sometimes I see a little boy,
In a blue and yellow striped shirt,
In the corner of my eye.
He told me he is a lost spirit,
And that I was to adopt him.
The boy did not remember his name,
He only knew that he was four.
So I tried to call him timothy.
He gave me a headache,
He does not like the name Timothy,
He prefers Collin.
Sometimes he is in my dreams,
And he asks me to sing to him.
He cries when I sing church songs.
And he cries when I smoke or light a candle.
I think he died in a church.
I think he died in a fire.
Poor Collin.
Sometimes he just watches me.
And he sings a little song.
"The wind moves the tree.
And I move too.
But what moves me?
That is up to you."
Poor Collin.
Other stories about Collin can be found in the collection "Son", which you can find if you look in the notes down below.
 Jul 2013 claire darling
AJ
When I was little
I read Goodnight moon every night.
And I'd goodnight kiss my bed.
And my door.
And my rocking chair.
And the floor.
And then I'd set up four little stuffed animal guards,
Back to back,
To watch the four walls of my room.
So that all the demons couldn't get to me.
They were my troops.
If I closed my eyes,
The ceiling was made of raindrops,
Frozen still.
But they weren't cold.
If I layed flat on my back,
I could hear the sound of my guards talking.
Mutiny they said.
They were going to over throw me.
They had secretly been the demons the whole time.
Those sneaky little *******.
So I crushed them under the weight of my toys,
That very second.
And the next day I pierced all their ears with a bidazler.
And I drew them tattoos.
I made them the thugs they wanted to be.
They didn't like it.
Repented for their sins.
But I used no crayola.
Punishment is a sharpie,
I had told them that before.
And that was the night I realized
I'm so much stronger than the demons.
I do not need a guard.
Goodnight moon.
 Jul 2013 claire darling
Robyn
I hate you when you warn me
Even though you think it's right
You're only trying to woo me
You only see your sight
You say that he feels nothing
Yet you won't tell me why
I'd like to be alone now
I thought I'd said goodbye
You know, this is my heartbreak
And I will feel it when it's here
Your heartbreak ages day to day
Let me feel my fear
If you can't prove I'm failing
Stop talking of my heart
I never felt the things you asked me
Lied to you from the start
If you cannot forget me
Then it's time for you to go
You say he doesn't care for me
The truth is
**I know
 Jul 2013 claire darling
Robyn
Stare
 Jul 2013 claire darling
Robyn
Last night was all pen ink
And faded playing cards
You squeezed my shaking fingers
All it was, was time apart

The next morning was all waiting
Not knowing if you were there
You walked in when I was reading
I just sat, and let you stare
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