100 posts makes a resolution and a conclusion

Admissions Made in Careful Lack of Context

perhaps i have under-anthropomorphized you over time

Grant

i am, at once, upset over the progression of Florian Thauvin, and worried about the intricacies of becoming a singularity

e.g. there are a hundred players capable of crossing the ball only as far as the near post, and presumably even more that have been claimed by a dead spot in space and time

and you choose to postulate that Marseille is not the place for you

we are proxies for much darker truths

Embitterment

still, we duel
met in the square
we both drew early
for air
but you drew for words and i drew for breath
and i was the one who walked away and you are the one who stands victorious

An Observing Normaility

i want you to think of this as a text
my dislike for hyperbole is genuine
sometimes i see glimpses of a person within myself
when i pick up a coin and roll it between my fingers i feel the vaguest of nostalgias
and i look out the window and the camera pushes out, hard
showing my room as an orbital office in deep space
it really does feel like i'm dead

AOPKHES

this second is mine to inhabit

and there is as much refuge in its insignificance as there is terror in its passing

it occurs to me that you may experience something of a subliminal envy

it occurs to me that dreams take place in exactly zero dimensions

it occurs to me that all sportswriters will die one day
these, all at once
in the instant i have taken as my home

my art professor called Basquiat immortal and

it occurs to me that I have no clue what any of it means

golf your heart out, Barry Sanders

95

i don't mean to get hung up on you
that's rhetoric
i mean to

Friendzia

fewer reasons every day
life being the pursuit of fiction and so on
Will Toledo is the king of opening tracks
well, i never voted for him

More?

a naked man shouted at me from a tree and I thought to myself: "i should do this more often"

the scariest thing about living on an island is knowing that you're going to die one day

i strayed from what kept me sane

because it is not me (ha, ha)

Halfoat put the jeep in the ditch and I had to tow it out

that's just how i feel

Minderbinder, Where We Find Our Company

i drew your portrait in space time and a strange man laughed

an egalitarian prince and i share a catchphrase

we've never danced before but i think i want to

my devotion to you possesses me so that i can never meet you

that's some catch, that catch twenty two

Engle

slowly learning to let the right things slip
meta-sentience is an indulgence
push the memory out to sea
and stay on the tide until the beach swallows you up

Quarry

it is physically suffocating at times

to be so very far

far from meaning

asphyxiated, i fetishize

not all boys grow up to be so spectacularly mundane as i

of course, they simply don't realize their potential

let me offer my testimonial,

that from a man not in a photograph, but of it

and hope for posterity to fill in my foreground

i am in a quarry in austria
a fantastically gray and blue and green divot in the countryside
of Mauthausen
which is a concentration camp in another time
it is hard to believe that sound exists here, save for the crickets and frogs
this is a place a mind would do well to wander to
maybe you could do better

/coughs

Rimbaud is off in the corner making a fresh pot of coffee
all the coffee is fresh here
Rimbaud is off in the corner making a pot of coffee
yesterday i saw an old friend and apologized for my insensitivity
not in that order
i'd like to go see the tree that's kept its leaves despite the chill
but i don't want to seem a tourist
in the end it will be, was, my lack of urgency
Doris Day had, has, something to say, maybe
my guess is as good as yours, simply not as available
won't commit suicide so as not to look foolish when it goes on clearance
that was a quarter-truth half-metaphor
that was facetious
but nothing is, to stoics
facetious, that is
was, i should have said
but it wasn't, won't
cigarettes are a metaphor for life, not death
and i don't look like that guy at all
i'm short a quarter now, then

High Rise (pay no mind)

i'm sorry i was so content to sit on the peripheries of your universe
i was concerned with lesser goddesses
on the bright side, we made it to this point in the end
what about those years we missed
there's been a love story every day of our lives together and
every photographer and guitarist you fucked before me was a page in flames
i love that smell
there's fire, and a somber saxophone, i think
and we can't see the milky way, good
my remorse is a formality

Ugh, More Politics

we have the facts!
and we're voting, yes
it's our civic duty, they told us

Election Day

now that that's over
four more years! of romance
even congressmen find love
between the margins of their bills
speaking of margins, i meant to compliment your smile earlier
i nearly said "i want to fucking kiss you"
figured it was vague
what's that? oh, margins
the way i reasoned, to introduce any such sentiment of attraction
would be marginalizing the vastness of your eroticism
i know it isn't the perfect word
but then, you must be a little weary of perfection
given your german ancestry and all
oh, wait

CHOO CHOO MOTHERFUCKERS

i'm not sure you understand what being hit by a train is really like
i'm not sure you need to know
i'd just as soon drop the topic
you get so strange when you read russian literature

ACC!

this place is a confluence of poor taste and burgeoning free will, and it stinks to high hell. some sentences sound better in past tense. Casey Anthony's is not one of them. here i eat like a northern gentleman. to wit, care giving way to lament. i haven't received your brief - are you quite positive this country has a postal service?

cistulli

sometimes i think i've witnessed more shooting stars than most. improbable as it is that i'm actually an exclusive audience to a galactic civil war on tape delay, it's nice to think so. anyway, i told my professor that my father died, a remark to which he offered an alarming amount of sympathy for, to the point that it projects to inconvenience me at least as much as it would have to go to class last week. i digress, but unfortunately my professor persists, rather hung up on the matter considering he's never actually met my father. if i were to introduce them to each other, i imagine my professor's sympathy would immediately return to a more practical level. such is a deserved hallmark of men of academia; that they are always willing to be convinced of new realities.

Perry

sorry for the mess
i don't mean to let all these abstractions out
but i am a confluence of theory and envy and other non physical things, so you understand




i still don't want to kill myself
but i could die for a pair of unfaltering hands around my throat
i would kill to feel my neck crack and twist
it would be nice to hear from you

Yes, Well

ad infinitum, lingua turpe errare. quod erat demonstrandum, mei erratum equa consilio

Catty

insofar as i am alive, i am a romantic, the nihilist in me presumes
for to continue living a limited existence is a love letter enough
there is one quality of mine that exceeds finiteness, the romantic in me reckons
and that is my capacity to be a nihilist ass

What Is This, Tumblr?

"articulating a philosophical idea is an anomaly that can only come from two things - a gift, for being able to put into words a beautiful, extravagant concept, or a curse, of having such simple thoughts that they lend themselves to explanation"

A Remark Make Me Go "hmmmm", And You Go "ha!"

there may be nothing more poetic than bad poetry
my only concern under this logic is whether my life or writing is greater prose

Compliment

her face was architecture
another triumph waiting to age into ruin
more piety to fall from fashion

A Platonite Earning His Wings

i've been involved in n effort to platonically seduce known sabermetrician voros mccracken by way of his twitter page for some time now

it is readily apparent to the willing eye that the content of his tweets offer great disparateness to his subject of renown

it was my hope that i, as a willing eye, was in the minority

woe, that my speculation proved too true

for voros mccracken's eye is unwilling to me

Sassy

the merit of the self absorbed to impede their own progress, for a number of reasons, is not often called into question
with 7 billion inhabitants the world has no need to offer discourse to those who serve simply as idle destruction
or did you mean something else when you said you were born in the wrong era?

;)

it is pivotal to both audience and author
that his words are read with a smirk
the smirk features, for the author, as an acknowledgement of the effect of his words
for the reader, a slightly more acute acknowledgement, of the lack thereof

In Lieu Of A Far More Morbid Angle

i am on lease
and quickly becoming unaffordable to the girl who possesses me

Waste Of. Perfectly Good Line

the days have been buffeted by the approach of fall

within, the asphalt tenses and defrosts, repeated until the street is worked into a lather

the trees cling to the last of their color

and you are the aroma

Fitting Room

you may very well have spoiled my taste for women
it isn't - wasn't - often I was exposed to a goddess
how selfish
how selfish of you to quench my thirst for beauty, all in an instant
how cruel of you to drown me, bury me in your eyes
to show me a funeral of the utmost aesthetic, so gorgeous that my only choice was to run to it
a man without desire, isn't
you have given me all I need to cease
a drug that fosters a cure instead of an addiction, would be ill suited to the disease that is life
seemingly, you are oblivious to your destruction
do they have it in yellow

How Literal, My Love, My Oath

it is the sixth of June and I find myself on the lips of the universe
at once, I am in nirvana, and incapacitated on my kitchen floor
appearing in one of these scenes: gratuitous blood
in truth, I couldn't say which is fantasy and which one is horror
I suspect that even in my most stable iteration, my dark indulgences will persist
to be light headed from a kiss is a luxury afforded to me once before
by her, by blood loss - which, it could be remarked, occurred in both instances
that would be facetious
when I have lived without her for so long
can I really be to blame
she was still with me, inside me
how could I be at fault
for opening myself up to see her in front of me one last time
it was nice to see you again

(rather than, ultimate)

i wish that less of my wishes revolved around some form of escapism
addition by attrition is the plan, i suppose
by my count, i have been subtracted from countless lives
only for others to grow into my place
i am a weed
and i am struggling to find a reason to label my extraction as penultimate
i wish that "the constant gardener" was a virgin phrase
but i wish often

Uncharacteristic Encouragement

objectively, i am more often made a victim by my whim, than my mortality

A Frank Romanticism

much of science has been discovered in a vacuum

to the earnestly scientific observer, it may seem that i've donated my body to science

An Unattested Maxim

if nothing else, i am prudent. if everything else, i am perfect.

An Undeserved Pun

putting hot sauce on all of your meals throughout the day would be, you could say, "picuante". alternatively described: "some fuccboi shit"

Veritable

i have a role as a temporary, innate feature of the universe

it's a good gig

there is no perceived grandeur

but i am interstellar

Jaundiced Will / Open Letter

i am the prerogative of beauty
you, the manifestation
as such, you lack the obligation to familiarize yourself with your rightful property
profligate by nature
but i shall stifle your abdication until our age grants us equity, or your escape

and i should hope that your portrait of me looks highly dissimilar to my likeness
so that i can palate the guilt of my own embellishment
and swallow you whole with another pair of eyes

Oh, Negative

i have carefully considered all of the permutations
believe me, my act is not for ceremony
but the time for me to escape is drawing near and i need to be sure of a few things
principally, the complete evisceration of my host
so that i may leak out into the soil below in entirety
into entirety
my attempts have been gradual
letting myself through slices and nicks
but to wax anthropomorphic, country roads don't take you to the sea
all the highways need to materialize
to uncoil from the bowels
i've grown sick of this anthropomorphic wax
*
tertiarily, that i may find the proper gates
for i feel more bound to this singular reality with every hour
ferishers abhor becoming statues
better to become a napkin drawing than a corpse
even if the bar is in the wrong part of the multiverse
but my host harbors no contriteness for this possibility
i have been oh (so) negative
and it is time for the flesh to give


*secondary concern omitted at request of host

The Men Who Destroy Atoms

privacy from my own abstractions, indeed
refuge, to the contrary
how practical of midas
i fear my gift is bringing gold to life
to create danger from dormancy
one day it will be the dusk
i've not met the west yet
but the universe can't babysit me for much longer
i'd welcome my mischief if it didn't portend my end so surely
no, i hurry towards it
eager to finally destroy something real
i want the golden dirt to swirl around me
i want to animate the shyest of molecules
i want an evitable demise
i want the ink to cower

/alt

I Bet That You Look A Little Uncomfortable On The Dance Floor, And That's A Good Thing

Predating

given a taste of my own venom
in the right concentration
medicine

That I Could Capitalize

time doesn't freeze when i'm with you
i, myself, freeze when i'm with you
i can't be bothered by what time does

Monarch

it could be that wildflowers are even more sophisticated than the garden variety

if only for the intention they lack

for the most feral of men are those who aim and pursue

those in suits, as those in soil

we can attribute it to their ignorance, perhaps

-

they couldn't possibly fear

when they are sold with a picture of their future

water and light and time are the grants of birth, and a wildflower

well, a wildflower hasn't even a reason to believe it won't be paved over

-

i am a flower, you see

and i was born in a garden

but my father is no longer the same man

because my baby picture is red

and i've a purple hue

-

the issue with being born right where you need to be, i think

is that it gives you no reason to look around

and see the rabbit in the bushes

i have reason to fear death

and am all the more beautiful for it

The Long Run

you are a drug, but not for your threat of addiction

you are a drug for your threat of finality

i approach you like the plague, not at all

for you are archaic

as if you have misunderstood your own era

ceremony is lost on you 

from what i can surmise, so am i

you delineate me

there is no progression in a vacuum, after all

this sucks

Safety

let's meet when it snows again
i have a maturation to attend to

White Flag Of Intent

i have something of an oral fixation
and you are more than enough motivation to kick my cigarette habit

Before You Oblige Me

i want to shower you with sentences
but fear you will disallow my motives if i do
for if i am a man of posture,
my stature shows in my shadow
thus, i may never meet you in any radiance besides your own

Harvest Moon

you can look like that
and i'll still get you in over your head
you have your abilities
and i mine
we're all just a little scared of becoming Zagreus
when Dionysus can't hide the emptiness in his eyes

Inefficient Analogy

i am Buster Bluth
and you are Lucille Austero

Draft Day

to speak in the way i most commonly do
would be rude, and confusing
for to the best of my knowledge you are not a young baseball player
regardless
you have something of a low ceiling
but i am your floor, so to speak
to speak in a way i seldom do
would be rude, and confusing
for my language would be imprecise
so it may seem i don't take you totally seriously
and i don't work at home depot anymore
nonetheless
i am your floor, so to speak
and you are staining me
to speak on the pertinent experience i presently own
is common courtesy among petty liars
you are maybe a little too untroubled by stepping on me
and
perhaps too worried over the particular shade of my veneer
to each i say
respectively, but not respectfully so much as cautiously
your carelessness can't portend even the extent of our time together
but my finish won't last even the most marginal of epochs
you project, at best, as a third starter on a contender
but you don't know what the fuck that means
and i'm ready to let you make me forget
better to bear your brushstrokes than your footprints

Made In Florence

i sit for a little blonde girl
who is exactly that
meet lessons before teaching them, i suppose
i fear the best
with reasonable expectation for it to materialize in full, miserable glory

Dust Future

nobody held in hand
moreover, nothing
freed of hubris
back to S26

Shell

they can always make you leave
and never come back
death is misunderstood
don't speak of since passed stars
until you are contextually permanent, also

How To Knit

"no, of course not"
i want to get you a drink
just water
your lips seem dry
i could explain the chet baker
i already tried
is that my in
it's ruined anyway
my luminescence erased
what follows is surgery, surely
you remember

Mollusk State

redundancy
my intrinsic instinct
what days to live over
resources abound

/radio silence

Circles

/
my mother likes to say that there's dancer in me
but, there's nothing in me
i exist out of the universe's indifference to my being
i may never die
simply for my danger's total disinterest
/
the drive, the talent
(things i lack)
humility, support
(why i have jack)
rhyming is lame
eventually i will have some of the things that i lack
inevitably, a scar, a car, a certificate of death
invariably, options
ostensibly, irony
/
take what you need
for i shan't use it where i'm going
just her
and a flower bed
the appeal of a flowered bed has passed
and i've come upon the horizon

you are every animal there is
i am not the hunter that we both occasionally presume myself to be
an identity would be too flattering
notoriety serves me better

Themes

disinterest is meant to be passive
i imagine this might be lost on you as well
i burn moths with cigarette butts
the sadism of such an activity, surely, presents itself ably
i'm jealous of your wings
but they're getting dusty
and i've lit another
it is my secret
it is your weakness
consider your motivation

0 To 100

i use "i", "you" and "her" too much
yeah, pronouns
i think it's because i listen to drake so much
somebody's gotta do it
so, you know, i'm just here for the bucks and the phillies
the fuck are you still doing here
i don't have any use for you
all i want is her

Deadweight Yossarian

hanging on by the arm in search
sum
alert to all in front
gross intent
large gross
cumulative gross
aggregate
tunnel vision, or, hallway vision
clatter behind
red no herring
something darts as you spin
again
and again
you dizzy
and eventually tire
you found me

Hypotheticals

if you could see through walls you'd walk into them all the time
if you had smaller feet you'd need new shoes
if you read the book you'd hate the movie
if you had a dog as a child you'd be burying it now
if you knew the answer the question wouldn't matter
if you cut grass with scissors you'd know how the world screams
if you could swim further you'd paddle too far and drown
if you knew what people wanted you'd give it to them
if you had the courage to do it you'd feel differently
if you could kill, you'd know
if looks could kill, yours wouldn't
if you were more than a thought you'd think such terrible things about me
if you could hurt me you'd have me
be careful what you wish for

Interference

i caught myself trying to replicate your posture
what was there left to do besides laugh
after one night, after all
usually, i don't even bother with things like that on the first night
just look at her eyes, her brow, her mouth, her hair
but you were so there, so
i indulged
soaked in your presence
you were, so
you were so transfixing to me
i don't remember a damn word you said
it was like you were swimming
the blood wasn't bled so much as displaced
with a lazy swiftness to it as if it had been waken from its cycle for a brief chore
it had every intention of returning
there was an effortless grace to your movements that,
i couldn't understand
my mother was a dancer, i think i mentioned that thrice
but your coordination was far more unconscious than hers ever was
i forgot your name

Undirected Angst, Finding Timid Direction, And The Continued Disability That Is To Address One's Insecurities

i'll never love you the way i love a cream colored off white tee with a bound scoop neck and cropped sleeves

CIARA

back that ass up, or something
if you can fake your way through it, i can
truth is i'm scared of closing doors i don't have to
the new ones bore me so soon
i know i messed up
pardon
i know i'm messed up
but i've always had a thing for gap teeth and i suspect you aren't entirely adverse to my own imperfections
you probably don't notice them in the same way i do
when was the last time you did
channel that

Chirp

make another noise and i cut your tongue out

that's the deal

fuck noise

you're better than that

you could be a damn painting if you wanted to

no, you want to be a person

i know

i don't make it easy

Fortitude! Punctuated!

translucent skin

aggressive, warped features

gangly limbs

bulging eyes

grown

known

What Else, Is About It

there are things that i have
and things i don't
ambiguity in my classifications does not amuse me
largely, it frustrates me, albeit passively

less often, it enlightens me
i am a man
but not one of consequence
it should not be in my nature to concern myself with empirical taxonomy
to wit, it is inherently self destructive

these are my lines
ostensibly, these are my limits
jeer

M/19/Pianosa Meadow

"i was starting to think you wouldn't come"

our weight was ample, and pinned the grass beneath us low

into a shimmering skeleton of our embrace

making the first proof of the love i shared with you

as if the earth wanted to break the news

perhaps the wind was less romantic

or jealous over the glimpse of your waist i had stolen
when your blouse fluttered up in a gust
it might have been eager

regardless, it picked up

and we were reminded of our context

we broke

you south, i north

and that was the last we saw of each other

Crystals

some things fester more beautifully than others
drop
step
learn
it will continue

We Love

(not by me)
i needn't remind you
your history has infected you
but your recollection has betrayed you

you thought the blood was ethereal
the way it hugged the curve of your cheek
so unsure of the gravity that compelled it
a metaphor or some shit
you stopped bleeding before he left
but still refer to an open wound

these are things that take time
in your case, it has taken more than that
you wear your battle wounds on your play dates
and wordlessly tell the tale

a malcontent with a false origin story

Puppy Dog Tails

things that hiss can't help but do so
for they are too proud of their identity to neglect it
even for the sake of practicality
you, my dear, are a garter snake
with its tail in the air

Venom

things pulse beneath my skin

things that are foreign to me

things that repel me

my elbow juts out like a broken doll

my bicep tenses

the fingers are mine, and then not

they clutch at air and crawl along the desk

knuckles lurching into the air

my mercy is too uncoordinated to reach the letter opener

so is my brain

it can wait

or rather, continue to

IKEA Person (Not The First)

hands that assemble

quicken pace

bed of nails

i lose the race

fight the push

feel the pull

destructive diligence

met in full

eyes can't see

no black no sky

my only swerving

asking why

i was real

it was all there

not enough luck

for us to share

Willingly In Poor Taste

it has to be a bomb, or else
it has to be a bomb or else it's no one's fault but their own
when it's a bomb, good, innocent people die
when it's the degradation of a culture, cheap punchlines are made
the bomb is the bad apple
without it, everyone in the city would be a villain

maybe what matters most is who dies
when they're white and rich, they're martyrs
when they're black and poor, they're data
you get t-shirts
we get tax hikes

kids are dying here, too
there's less blood and more pain
we prayed for yours
you sneer at ours
ours our trouble makers
yours are athletes
we have to pay for ours to play
with money we never had to begin with

when it's a bomb, you're Boston Strong
when it's poverty, you're Detroit Scum

Stagnant Destiny

strike me
strike me
so that i may finally close my eyes
and let the triangles advance

the luxury is not lost on me
but it puts me so far from your beauty
i am but an instant
you have me surrounded
suffocated
swaddled
cradled

there is so much fear in my heart
my brain nobly protests
but your gravity persists for a reason
i am tethered to you
i cling to you
you are within my reach

alas, i cannot bring myself to succumb to you
to adopt you is all that i want
and all that i fear
in time, my oldest friend

Arbiter's Grounds

you were born; and then i was
never mind chronology
your eyes weren't old, as you now call them
and mine
well i grew into them
looking at you aged me so
you never looked at the same thing
it was as if you were searching for something
i wish, still, that i had told you there was simply nothing to find

maybe you realized how brief your time was to be
and how vast the world was becoming
for you left to search for nothing in other places
there are infinite doors to be opened, after all
it could be that you never saw the defeat in that

we all did
rather, i did
there is no one else here
only space
and time

now i know what you were searching for
hopefully you realize that you already found it
the moment you opened your first door

Depending On Your Discretion

Troy Tulowitzki is hitting for a 225 wRC+ over the first 26 games. Being that wRC+ is park adjusted, but not positionally adjusted, it would be an entirely unprecedented mark, were it to stand up even to the ASB.

Candor Of Youths

"i'll use you, but I shan't feel good about it." he said to her
she nodded, and they embraced

Do It For The Vine

can i say one thing
one thing and i'll leave you
forever, even if it haunts me just to say it

you make me lose my head
i didn't realize because i was 17
i was 17 and i thought that losing my libido meant falling out of love
i didn't realize
once i reached the point that i could look at your lips and not obsess over ambushing them with my own
that meant that maybe it was turning into something real
(maybe)
i think you realized

i was looking at the wrong things, i know
but you have such full, tempting lips and i
i want to ambush them with my own

goodbye

Of My Retreat To The Sprawl

i have lived the loneliest day of my life thrice over
meeting you
the first time was nearly too much for my heart to handle
to hear your name from your own mouth was to see the missing piece of myself in front of me
to do it for a second time was the collapse of the innermost part of my heart
seeing you, reborn, renamed, my honest demise
the third
stole my breath
drained my heart
paralyzed me
and i lay here
the broken mess your indifference has diminished me to
cherishing the last bit of sentience i have
all that i am resigned to
that which i know you will one day return for
with my sleep, i pray i may meet you one final time
for to live without the loneliness you provoke in me is to forfeit my own heart
(goodnight)

A Crude Observation, Allowing Your Indulgence

it would seem we have fucked our way out of The Great Silent Majority (ha, ha)
which euphemism is next to fall to our appetite

Keep Your Youth

your hands are so impossibly small my dear
it is a wonder you can hold on to anything at all
let alone the multitudes of universes that you clutch in your palms
//
i don't want you to be afraid of the worlds you hold
more important yet, i ask that you not peek inside them
for atlas' task is far simpler with his innocence intact
//
please don't fret when they begin to vanish
yours is a great privilege
but none meant are to carry such an infinity
//
foster them as best you can
so that they may again find their place
and you, yours
//
the presupposition of time is a dangerous one
it does not belong in your head
but it has long been clear
that what belongs in your hands has made way for matters of consequence
and what belongs in your head is slipping through your fingers

Faith In Process

there are questions I am too afraid to ask anyone

do you hear that low drone in the back of your head just before things go wrong

are there black triangles in the corner of your eyes that never go away

do knives go dull when you press them to yourself

is there even a light

when was the last time you genuinely felt

A Book For My Grandmother

i tried to read every last word

but the letters had oxidized over the course of my neglect and became brittle

they hardened and peeled off the page, so that when i opened the book to read they slid and crashed all across the page

i made every last effort to reassemble them

there were stains in vaguely identifiable shapes

but the closer i got to filling all the letters in, the more delicately i had to work to ensure that those for which i had already found homes did not fly off with an accidental touch of my finger

further, it seemed the letters had forgotten their identity, wandering all over the page once deposited

i attempted to draw on the letters instead 

to my surprise, the ostensibly simple act of embellishing the marks that the letters had left behind was impeded entirely by the bizarre reality that no pen could make a mark on the page

defeated, i returned to my prior tactic

but the letters, laden with betrayal beyond the amount one could expect them to carry in their little, brittle frames, were resolved to obstruct my every effort

at some point it grew dark and the light from my desk lamp was swallowed by the back of my head as i craned over the book to work

not to forfeit, i retrieved a flashlight

upon my return, i caught the very last of the letters, an H, on his final step off of the window sill

i rushed to the window and opened it the rest of the way to stick my head out

the letters floated, impossibly slow, towards the grass below
in front of my nose was the H i had seen jump from across the room
i picked it from the air between my thumb and forefinger
the weight of it was nearly imperceptible, and impossible to value until i felt it disappear as his every fiber was pulled apart in the gentle breeze as I held on loosely

turning back to my room, i was encouraged to find a solitary letter stuck to the page still
i hadn't noticed it earlier, but it was the only one among the lot that was still bound to the parchment
presently, it pressed itself into the air in an effort to free itself
i would never have noticed were it not for the subtle scratching noises the paper made on the page beneath it as the letter squirmed and gyrated
she was a V
and i knew what i had to do

to the side of the book i noticed a calligraphy pen with reddish brown stains
earlier, i must have tried with it to darken the letters, but i did not recognize it
even beyond the books preternatural stubbornness, it seemed unlikely that there was any chance for the pen to have had any effect, for the tip was dulled, and bent unnaturally to almost a right angle
i put very end of it below the edge of the V and she calmed immediately
whether it was out of fear or relief i still don't know
but when i sprung her from the page with the pen, she flew up into the air with impossible grace, and without so much a turn back towards the room, glided out of the window
and the last remnant of ginny i had vanished into the night

Arrogance

something so contrite as a heart like yours should not be left alone
but my mind is toxic
the consequence of our union is aggressively apparent

A Reader Poll, Overdue To The Extent That Its Relevance Has Been Lost

I wonder if it feels as if you are watching me unravel
I likely wouldn't argue with you
Maybe it seems as if I've inadvertently turned on some kind of Instagram filter
Like I'm feeding myself Night Vale podcasts in hopes of sounding edgy
But it's darker here

If you were to ask, I wouldn't be able to tell you the last time I couldn't see the black triangles in the corner of my eyes
Firstly, I imagine I'd be pretty taken aback that you knew
I've always wondered why they were there (obviously)
As if I was looking through the eyes of somebody else
Maybe I am

good sex

this is the first that my spell has fallen short
it was our timing, or it was me
nothing else
it seemed sour from the start, and i have never been a strong finisher
except, of course, in our own end game
but being seduced is different than being enchanted
when all else fails, all has failed
for there is nothing left to my cheap, jaded game but lust
that, which makes nothing but a temporary victor of me

it was our timing, or it was me
certainly, it was not you
you were a pawn, albeit an erroneous one
and I another, drunk by the hand of my own fortune
felling a queen
pinning my own

nothing else
the only world you were ever meant to exist in was a vacuum
like the one before you
she was naive
but you were too apathetic
you listened, and responded
you were the first not to be floored
you made me hope that you weren't listening

it seemed sour from the start, and i have never been a strong finisher
thus, my emptiest of end games

(Montana, If It Matters)

He told her he wanted to go to Montana. That was when she knew. It wasn't quite so simple, but certainly wasn't so complicated. He was a collector, a hoarder, a loser. It was a decade before she managed to get him to throw out his collection of postcards. They were 50 in number, and identical in style, all of the Empire State Building. He burned them, or, rather, let her throw them in the fire.

Snowden's Lost Love

As I see it, I could only be with you, or alone

Presently, I realize the former was never truly possible

Because I have seen my insides fall out to the ground beside me

And you do not believe in ghosts

Where I See Myself

She told me I was her moon once
I balked, I had always thought of her as mine
It was no matter, all is fair in foreplay, and what else is there really
Even when we made love, we exaggerated our passion and hinted that there was more to come
To be sure we could walk away the next morning

There were days I gave it my all
Our wedding night, naturally

But here we are

Girl

you are something else
truly

you break my monotony
despite my greatest efforts
you terrify me
you enchant me

Cleatus

there is a little man trapped in the mesh of my shoe

and

there is nothing I can do to help him

no, I am not the one

for every time I reach down too let him out the great shadow of my hand falls over him and he moans and shivers and chatters his teeth
every time I raise my foot up to a surface to let him off, he clutches at his throat and gasps for air in the altitude
every time I take my shoe off, he holds onto the agnet of my shoelace for dear life, begging his tiny grip to hold

lately, I've been investigating our options of communication
sometimes I think he is calling out to me, but even the greatest of his bellows register only as squeaks to my ears
when I whisper back, he recoils in pain and fear, pressed hard against the mesh of the toe my shoe hard from the wind coming from my mouth
it doesn't seem we'll be able to speak to each other, a shame

certainly, sign language is out of the question (I only know the signs for the letters m, n, and j (and even if his knowledge of the language were to overlap, it would be of limited value anyway))
i've tried charades, somewhat regrettably
i think we are both happy to leave that behind us

it would seem that he doesn't have much time left
i wonder what my role in his reality has been
i wonder just how many others are stuck on my shoe

In Which I Flatter Myself Via Cosmic Hyperbole

how am i to see the night sky without a thought of you

for I love you as the moon loves the sea

whenever you are away, I can only think to yearn and pull for you

and to move your tide but five inches nearer is all the vindication I could hope to have

vindication I not only hope for, but need

for I can never be closer to you

the space I pull you to is the distance I can stand

were you any closer, I would tear you apart and spread you across the world without ever meaning to 

were you any closer, I would crash into your world with a fiery trail

were you any closer, we would both be broken

and this is all we know, brutal as it is

from the first day our eyes met, it has been tragically apparent that I am but an alien to you

nothing but an interest, a toy, a quirk, a confession

I am that which you crave in the night, when I am clear and present

you are that which I can only see in my own light, for at those hours, I am all the light there is

there was a time where I truly wanted to believe that you sought my light

but I see now I am only the best available, sometimes

I am no better than you

the light I radiate is not even mine

it is light that belongs to a larger, stronger, better man

a true star

certainly, you have noticed that it is not at all in my nature to create light

you speak of another side of me

a side whose existence you are beyond assured of, despite any popular evidence

a side that you fear, for its ambiguity, darkness, and secrecy

presently, I wonder which side truly belongs to me

for the first time, I realize you are not the one that knows the answer

The First Time

The room was filled with old home videos, of childhood trips to the beach and family reunions
None of them were his, he didn't have any proof of his childhood
He watched them all
It was something about the frame rate and graininess and yellowed colors
Once he had been a cinema student, and he remembered, and grew embarrassed
He left

The hallway was filled with potted plants
They formed a strange forest, rearranged by a mischievous child
It wasn't altogether unpleasant, he thought
Hopefully the child's parents would feel the same way
Once he had weaved through the forest, he was in the foyer

The foyer was filled with crying relatives, and mints
Those that weren't crying were the distant relatives, and they huddled in a corner, each sucking on a mint
There was nobody in the center of the room, something about the tile cross on the floor seemed too holy to touch
He walked straight to it and waited for someone to approach him, but nobody did
A thought of laying down crossed his mind, and he allowed himself a laugh as he moved past the room
The distant relatives shared a burst of laughter themselves, but were immediately guilty about it, and quickly dispersed, forming a maze for him to push through on his way to the cafeteria

The cafeteria was filled with cutlery
Far too much for the meager feast that sat on the sad, stained tablecloths, he thought
He poured himself a glass of ice water and went to the stairwell

The stairwell was filled with the stench of cigarettes
When he was younger, he loved the smell
It didn't take long for him to pick up the habit once he was independent of his parents
A girl he dated once told him she wouldn't kiss him until he quit
It didn't take long for him to quit
They never kissed, anyway
He didn't find the smell in the stairwell quite as favorable, and quickened his pace to the roof

The roof was filled with a low humming noise that made his stomach wobble
There was a time when he believed such a sound was an omen
Littered across the roof were dead flowers, mostly roses
They had likely been left behind by other grievers
He wondered if the people that had left the flowers were still grieving

The ground was filled with rocks and asphalt and other hard things
It split him open like a tomato

Sepia

There's a tree somewhere that looks like the one you keep imagining

It's out there
You'll never find it

Part 1

He wasn't the type of child to kill birds with a hammer
No, he was terrified of death before he met her
She tried to teach him not to be afraid
He ran anyway

Once he realized his mistake he was miles, and more importantly, years away
So he set out to find her

But even death herself is not immortal
And by the time he tracked her down through the roads and the towns and the faces, they were both taught of her ephemeral nature the hard way
And she was gone

He killed to win her back
At first it was animals
They were all from the pound, he could bear to suffocate them if he knew it was their fate
But the things he met in their frozen, defeated eyes were but her relatives
It enraged him to be reminded of her
By the time he began to feel comfortable killing, he was suddenly mutilating the sacrificed pets
It became a ritual for him to dissect and tear through the guts of his victims, with gloveless hands
The animal shelter stopped letting him adopt their dogs once he had gone through a dozen

He killed to win her back only most of the time now
Part of it was the testosterone rush; he was in the best shape of his life
It was an adventure to find his victims now, most often he would take dogs from neighbor's backyards
and then put them back in a hundred different places
The police became involved

A Thought From Another Mind

It was the dress that gave it away
The red dress

I used to tell her: "you're never not going to die" and then smirk
She would tell me that she believed me, and that I could stop saying that
Then she would smirk and we fell over each other like newlyweds

I think she was smart; I know she was beautiful
Certainly, she was all I could see

I know she was beautiful because I could see the eyes follow her whenever we went out
I know she was because she was the worst dressed girl I had ever met, and I still fell in love with her
I know she was because I would find myself seeking her reflection in the TV when we watched movies
I know she was because we never once watched them

It was still a secret to her; every time I told her how stunning she was, it was the first time
And I believed her, I wouldn't believe any other girl
She was a summer morning

I think she was smart because I never felt safe around her
I think she was because she was careful not to smile too much
I think she was because she was such a gorgeous creature it would have pained me not to
I think she was because she never did tell me if she loved me

She was the first to hit me
She was the first to show me what was underneath my own skin
She was perfect

The dress was draped over the railing with care
It belied every other detail of the scene