It’s 2:00 am, and I’m bent over the sink, sucking mango off the stone, juice running down my forearms and dripping onto yesterday’s dirty dishes. Seventy-two moth carcasses fill the garbage can in their crumpled Kleenex shrouds.
Tag Archives: Heartbreak
I Am the Deafening Silence
I am the slow spurt of water, reluctant, always too hot and always too cold. I am three hairs stuck to the shower wall in different coloured shapes and lengths that are so far from home they’ll never be un-lost.
And Still the Planet Burns
We must evacuate alike; we all will suffer loss, equal now if only in our devastation. Our memories go up in smoke as we flee. What are we running to? There is no future.
Candy Floss Concerns
We make political statements with cupcakes
While half the world burns
They can’t rebuild their broken lives
With our candy floss concerns
There’s a Fist-Sized Hole in the Kitchen Window
It’s that kind of day where you pray for a whisper of a breeze to kiss the beads of sweat that sting your eyes. You don’t move a muscle, lying on the dock, fingers trailing in tepid water. The lump of a secret too huge to swallow grows in your throat until you think you’llContinue reading “There’s a Fist-Sized Hole in the Kitchen Window”
Darkness Lingers
All the love I’ve experienced
Has felt like pain
Like a bolt of lightning
Through a warm spring rain
Quietly Important
She’s quietly important, but
She’s on the brink
I can feel her slipping away