A Small Midnight Reminder

 

I felt you last night

through the sheets and comforter

And the quilt on top for good measure

You were curled up into yourself

arms tucked behind your knees

to pull your legs ever closer

I was lying on my back

with my head turned to the left

in an effort to keep my earbud in

You sounded like you were dreaming

mumbling something incoherent

But I heard one thing clearly:

“You’re delusional” you said

and what could I say to that?

Nothing, that’s what

And then you went quiet for a while

and you drew your legs even closer

as you started biting through your lip

When you left you kissed me

and I tasted metal for a moment

until you sank back into the mattress

And tears started pooling on my pillow

as I wondered if you’d ever come back

to see me, and if you’d really be there

But I knew you wouldn’t

at least not that night

The batteries had died.

Nous connaissons la chanson

 

I remember when I fell behind

plucked a tiny flame as I dined

and wondered where I found it

It must have been from beneath my chair

as it was hiding its warmth from me there

but calling to me in hushed whispers

We all know the tune, know it by heart

but how it pains me for us to be apart

as the whirlwind rages outside

I held the little flicker by the nape

as it wriggled and tried its best to escape

but its efforts were in vain

I arose from my seat and moved to dispense

in a sense, of the flame in a stick of incense

lowering it to the tip of the object

We all know the tune, know it by heart

but how it pains me for us to be apart

as the waters rise to our doorsteps

It rested a moment on the end of the stick

then, all at once, like some ancient magic

it faded to smoke with a mouth-borne breeze

That tiny flame died that day

with one small breath did it blow away

and all that remains is an overwhelming stench

We all know the tune, know it by heart

and how it pains me for us to be apart

as the twister tears us asunder

How It Feels to Be 5 Gum

 

I am hollow and brittle and ready to crumble

If I curl up too much, I’ll collapse in on myself

I am aimless

I am nigh-formless

I am a beam of light flying from a star,

    on a perfect trajectory to never hit anything

        along my path

I feel as though I cannot breathe

    even though I am

My legs are numb

I feel as though someone has ripped out my left lung

I feel as though someone has replaced my stomach’s butterflies

    with moths

My hands ought to be translucent

My lungs are laden with the inexpressible

I am the stubborn eyebrow-hair finally being plucked out

I am a moonbeam missing the Earth and flying away

I am a comet that will burn up before impact

I am an eraser’s shavings being swept from a desk

I won’t last too much longer

Untitled (unfinished)

 

    There are few moments as somber as when you leave your friends and drive home after a party or get-together or the like. That moment when you part ways and are enveloped with a feeling of profound loneliness that stews in the isolation of your vehicle all the way back home.

    If you’ve experienced this before, you know what pain feels like. You know how it feels to wander the desert alone for eternity all in the span of your commute. The warm summer evening or night air that threatens to choke the life out of you if you let it. You feel as though you could give up your being to the universe and float down the river for a while, filling your lungs with the cool waters.

    In that moment, you can see how each of your friends will disappear from your life. There that one goes, off to pursue some pipe dream. Oh, another has started a career in construction. Look! That one has taken off Northward for the chance at a better life.

    The food you ate is no longer agreeing with your stomach as you reach the halfway point of your trip home. It was perfectly good, but your stomach has decided to revolt due to the negative emotion piling up in your system.