The Same

I’ll see them Laying on a bed of shadows Laughing on broken promises Never able to look forward Even when I want to Vering back to the hope Eating up the good memories Resting my head on forgotten promises Feeling as I once was Eerily beautiful in its complexity Exciting my inner child Lasting only…

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The Chalk Man by C.J. Tudor

Every kid’s dream is to find something cool in the woods. They just never expect it to be the dismembered pieces of a young girl. For the gang in CJ Tudors The Chalk Man, this is exactly what happened.  In the small town of Anderbury England, the narrator Eddie and his group of friends, Fat Gav,…

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Silent Melody

They were my favorite music on mute A booming silence  Weaving through rusty stands And fraying plastic seats Getting lost in the music I heard instead In the trumpets and clarinets In the blaring trombone they once played In the screeching flute I still do They were in the background The foreground Giving me no…

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My Brain Wants to Know My Relationship to Love

After Tiana Clark My Brain Wants to Know about My Relationship to Love After Tiana Clark I climb   unrelenting. I stagger.   I jumble pieces. I collapse & rebuild. Locating shrapnel shards in my heart, always finding them there, always picking out one, two. I panic – choke & deflate. Every second, shrinking back…

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A Journal

A Journal 1992: Newly Weds Make a Journal For The Memories to Come, Flip to First Page, Insert Quote “Can you play me a memory/ I’m not really sure how it goes/ But it’s sad and it’s sweet and I knew it complete” –Billy Joel 1996: Loving Couple Hope, Go to Doctor, Seven Words Leave…

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Skeletons

I was sitting. The couch was brown, fingers grazing over crushed velvet to make the shade shift from light to dark. I was thinking. The thoughts were about nothing and everything as I stared at the wall. It was a soft hue of yellow, like particles that go from flower center, to bees leg, to…

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Ode to Abigail

Cars crash like honeyFolding and shining with sun shrapnel Showering into veins, slicing into skin As the girl playing tug of war with her seat belt loses Wings clipped as she flies  Seat cushions become helicopter blades Bad dreams twisting into tubes, needles Read what is living, warn what will be dead Elbow crease pumping,…

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My in a Nutshell

I love to write. Not with the same skill as Shakespeare or Silverstein, but talented enough to have the spark to form intriguing columns of text. Something to be proud of, but at my age, not something that would be on the shelves. All my writing has been fiction. Fairies, magic, and the deep depths…

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Unsobered

The man           Broken                 Battered        Bleeding           Placed back on the ground       Bubbling stomach numbing his nervous system    Red and blue luster enveloped by thick black      Blaring sound diminishing in a blur         Of whites and reds and screeching tire   The steam seeping back into concrete cracks The man’s friend un-speaks his line         His eyes forget        My small…

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