my type breathes ink
pressing said ink against sky
holds it, sticks it, stains it
each letter pushes
and stays

every mistake she makes is crinkled
and college-lined
freethrown in and around
an endless waste basket
later,
we'll call it her greatest work

because my type
type: writer
alphabet ingester
idea inventor
stainer of sky
believes in a world
where the world believes

she dots her eye-contact
and crosses her teachings

she sees old folks as encyclopedias
and children as ear to ear echoes
of all of this beautiful ****
that makes us shout
out loud

she sees fairytales
as tomorrow's scientific law
and travels this crazy world
via lopsided butterfly
whom by nature
always take the scenic route

because my type
type: writer
freelance flower grower
with watercolor wordplay
breathes, believes
and redrafts

breathes, believes

i’ve been told
that time heals all wounds
i have found that little nugget of wisdom
to be complete
*******

time is cement
turning things you wish weren’t true
into concrete

time is scarring
wounds scabbed over
ready to be torn open repeatedly
at the slightest
remembering

time is an *******
20 years later
walking through hallways i had hoped never to see again
to look up and see a face
i had hoped never to see again
a face i still see in my nightmares
a face
his face
your face
i name you
nate tollefson



i had traveled 18 times
around the sun
when you shattered my night
the dark took on a new meaning
for me after you

locked door friends pounded on
yells ignored
the fact that i was unconscious
ignored
me ignored
you saw me as an easy target
what you did to me that night
fundamentally changed the way
i let my lovers touch me
to this day
i can’t sleep in clothes
fight or flight can’t be tangled up
when danger arises
i can still feel your weight on top of me
when i wake up screaming
soundlessly
nightmares you handed to me on a silver platter

i kept silent about you
rumors flew after the party
everyone wanted to know what had happened
had we hooked up?
i would just close my mouth and shake my head
afraid of the words that would tumble out
trying to name an act
i couldn’t have stopped
an act i didn’t want

i had been a ****** that night
i wasn’t after you left that room
i bled for 3 days after
torn and hurting
suffered in silence amid the swirling gossip
whispers behind hands into eager ears
until something more interesting
than you and me
a locked door at a party
bloodied calvin klein underwear
grabbed their attention away
they may had forgotten quickly
i still haven’t

after all, you were a star
football and wrestling built your pedestal
a warrior decorated in red and gold
walking like a god among men
why would you need to ****?
yet you did
**** me

i had to look at your face every day
for the next 2 1/2 months
only once after the fact
did you even acknowledge my presence
i was nothing but a number to you



i am now 39 years old
life has led me far from you
yet the stain of you has remained
you handed me a life sentence that night
one you will never know
yet you handed yourself one as well

no matter how successful you are
no matter how much money you make
no matter how beautiful your wife is
no matter how charming your children
no matter how perfect your white picket fence

you will always be
a destroyer of night
a stainer of souls
a robber of trust
a murderer of innocence
a ****** of bodies and hearts
a ******
you
nate tollefson