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My blood pumps slowly, congealed into black sludge. My heart, nevertheless, throttles on with a fury, pumping faster and beating harder. I hate this. I hate that I’ve gotten to this place from t...

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I’m starting to dread the A.M. hours. I’m exhausted but I can barely sleep, because the night asks all the worst questions and at the end there’s no hiding from yourself. It’s ridiculous, when ...

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Twice is too much. But here we are. Every breath in feels like the deep one before the plunge. Every breath out, an unsatisfying answer to the hanging question. Where am I now? Things happen, e...

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Someone once told me that all evil will come to pass. Time and again it seems to prove itself true: the thing you dread becomes the thing you have to face, sooner or later. So here’s my little o...

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And all of a sudden the surge of revelation is gone, leaving me with answers I have to figure out how to survive and blind exhaustion. It was always hiding just around the corner. … I kept telli...

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It shivers and spurts, like blood beating against a clot until it breaks free. It burns, it races. The feeling of freedom that children feel when they see a green hill, and know they’re allowed ...

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Sooner or later fear always turns into a cage you have to hate your way out of. Sooner or later not being able to move forward becomes worse than facing the world you dread. Sooner or later we’v...

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And yeah, I’m barely here, or anywhere. Standing still is how the ground gives out under you. I’m not really okay. My reflection, ten years younger, looks back at me wearing a smile filled with...

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The heat’s finally starting to relent, the season shift. And like always I change with it… The summer makes me into a daylight zombie. Everything’s so bright and it feels like there’s too much t...

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No, no, no. I don’t want to. The words fester and congeal, then fade. Leaving me like this, with nothing, just a few stray pebbles rattling in a can. You know I chose this, right? Except I chos...

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Let’s not pretend I haven’t been avoiding this; that the hours of the day don’t drag like nails across a chalkboard as midnight draws closer like the edge of the world and I fall off. Let’s not ...

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Been here before, didn’t say I liked it, etcetera. It’s funny. You think the past is so far away, when all it takes is a choice, an hour, maybe a night’s sleep… And here you are, drowning in it,...

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There’s just something about August I suppose. The desperation, the fervent quest, the stubborn refusal to turn back. How close to the edge can we get this time? My days are a whirl of eigenvalu...

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So. I went back. I remembered what it was like to see her again. I came home. I suffer through the reasons I let myself forget. And here we go all over again. Such a strange little chapter of my...

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Silence boils and festers. The words tangle and sputter. The thoughts, plans, dreams they sought to convey become clouded and muddy. Thought breaks down, leaving feeling without explanation. Ol...

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So much to do. Bits and pieces that needing fitting together and missing things that need finding and some tasks that are just like a little bar you fill up a second at a time by sitting and wait...

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I don’t really want to feel it. I know, I know, we’ve talked about this, but you know how it is. It’s all locked away. I’m bone tired, I’ve barely had two hours to myself to rub together and spa...

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Quiet dreams last night. Dreams often surprise me. They’re just you, babbling sense-memories and words, pulling the stories of your life apart and putting them back together, splashing around in...

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It all comes crashing down, sooner or later. You can dig your hole and crawl in and let the worms set to work digesting your heart, but sooner or later they’ll pull you out. Sooner or later some...

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I’m rattling against the walls. There’s all these things moving too quickly, ripping me along through their arcane trajectories. All I’ve gotta do is hold on, you know, but it’s exhausting. Ever...

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I wouldn’t need to have trust issues if people actually lived up to themselves. If their appearance wasn’t something different from the thing underneath. If people didn’t lie with word and deed, ...

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I’ve been drifting. Drawing shapes in the sand. Lying back on my couch and staring patterns into the curious texture of the popcorn ceiling. I don’t know if it’s true, what I wrote. It’s a stran...

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My sunlit hours drag along, I can’t convince them to pass faster. Anemic things, poorly filled. I suspect all that bright light boils the good parts out. And then night falls and suddenly there’...

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When you’re numb; cold, or scabbed over. Maybe just calloused, adapting to hard surfaces and sharp edges to ease the everyday. We tell these lies about ourselves, because the truth is quiet stil...

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It’s all gone quiet. The music that set my blood on fire only stirs small eddies, now. My day-to-day is normalcy, projects and schedules and a variety of engaging tasks to distract me from the da...

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