Disassociated driving

away from a scene:

not a sunset, or sunrise

a guilty pleasure of mine

revenge in reverse

I take a haul off a Chesterfield

thick smoke fills the truck

hindering eyesight like fog

sneak a peek in the mirror

at my crimson red latticed face:

war paint...

If only this world had shown me

a little more mercy

Maybe this box of grief

Wouldn’t be holding a bomb

Ready to explode

A softness, feminine as petals

Hardened in its granite state...

When the paranoia sneaks in, I know

My heart starts racing, the tears flow

The chips falling inside of me start to show

Teetering on the borderline...

Diamonds are beautiful,

but they’re also strong

Like my mother’s voice, cracking, singing

me that song

The song, “You are my Sunshine,”

after I would run away

Trying to use the lyrics

to bring me back to the light of day...

My eyes followed Tracey’s hand movements as she spoke wildly about Spenser and how there had been a wild goose chase Monday, as he had called a bunch of people and then disappeared. The pit in my stomach grew larger and I think Tracey could see it through my shirt.

“He’s ok, he’s ok,” she assured me....

I keep having this dream where I am in the middle of the ocean at dawn. I’ve been treading water all night, holding onto a plank, being battered by waves. I’m too tired to be fearful of what’s below and I’m about to give in to my exhaustion when I see you standing in the distance. You’re not saying anything and I can tell it’s you, because your eyes are bluer than the landscape. You’re holding a l...

It’s an easy decision on paper

She checks all the boxes

Communicative, empathetic

Successful sexy, creative

But it’s hard to weigh

My light head

When I catch his azure glimmer

From across a crowded room...

Life is like a sharp stick—if you’re not careful, it’ll poke your eyeball out. It can kill you in a thousand different ways, but at the same time equips you with defense and means to keep yourself fed....

Guardian of the forest, but only at night. Only when the darkness and quiet mix and turn into sweet Xanax, calm. It pours itself over the landscape—goopy and slow. Slow like my gear operated head, mechanically rotating, metronome movements, night vision goggles scanning for prey....

I walked down the stairs into a sea of people, who were all cheering for me around a large cake with candles to celebrate my “rebirth.” I smiled sheepishly, made thankful eye contact with a few in the crowd, then stopped in front of the cake. The flames warmed my skin and flickered in the reflection of my pupils—I could feel them more than I could see them. The flames reminded me that I was succes...