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Your hand around my heart, or at least the empty space. A ghostly shape, appalling and unwelcome, because nature abhors a vacuum. Frigid and cold, the sharp note of absence. Once upon a time I h...

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My scar itches, and I swear between the stars in the clear night sky I can see lightning dancing.

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This is what I wanted. This isn’t how I thought it would be. This isn’t what I wanted. I’m surprised, but it turned out alright. I didn’t know I wanted this. I don’t know what I want, but I know ...

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The night air tastes wrong, wrong for here, and in the last light before dusk I can’t see that the leaves on the trees are the wrong shape or that the buildings are wrong, I don’t notice the unco...

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Because words are just smoke, and I’m choking, because the fire’s gone out and there’s just ghosts, waiting for the wind to remind them that there’s nothing left. Because it doesn’t matter, the ...

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Silence is a lighter, and a knife. Two things touching, then touching skin, with no answer. 6 or 7 times, I think, though I wasn’t really counting at the time. The point of the knife on the left...

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Twice in a night. Too many, too much. Except not enough, time and words and… My brain is itchy, my secrets are buried deep and sore. Five words can suffice for even the deepest truths, but I wand...

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Sigh. Conversations with an ex, who cheated and broke up with me something like 6 years ago now. Kind of looked like we’d get back together at one point, but it turned out to just be a ghost tha...

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Everything will be okay in the morning, we’ll fix it. You can’t trust people who won’t hurt you. You can’t believe a word out of their mouths about anything that matters, because what if it’s ba...

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Nothing like it was supposed to be, the way it looked from the outside, the way we thought it would feel when we were still young and naive. So preoccupied with becoming, who’d have thought the e...

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Time passes, and strangely. Once a month was too much, a weekend longer than what a young mind could easily fill. Once a week was enough to change the world, or break your heart. And now the day...

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I wish I knew if you’d read this. Will read this? Have read this? Will have had read this? I don’t know, some tense. My grasp of high-level physics is kind of loose, but I guess sometimes time st...

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How do you tell the difference between a tempting lie and a difficult truth? Is it a lie because, tempting though it might be, it’s easier to turn away from? Is it true because that allows you to...

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An embarrassing overreaction, a moment of painful vulnerability. Because even if you’re a bit crazy, even if you just end up acting out your issues, you’ve got to play the hand you’re dealt. I d...

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It takes pain, sometimes, to remind us who we are. It takes a shock, or maybe just the realization that whatever’s coming this time can’t be handled half-asleep. It’s a painful reckoning, awaken...

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I’d write you a song, but I never learned to sing; I don’t have the nerve for poems anymore, my drawing sucks, paint always runs together. My hands are rarely gentle, but it doesn’t matter much I...

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There are many voices with which to speak. Human voices, conversing softly. Sing-song words spun along. Dreamlike whispers, cryptic and callous. It hurts to remember, I remember to hurt and I fo...

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It’s easier, sometimes, when loneliness isn’t a choice. When it’s just something you survive, endure. When you don’t get the choice to come out from the cold, when you don’t have to become the pe...

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Don’t tell me you didn’t think it all through before, that this isn’t what you wanted before you knew what wanting was. You know that music’s deeper than listening, that the hand around my heart ...

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Writing every night… a bad sign. But a comfortable sort of release. There’s always a blank page, somewhere, waiting for you. There was a time in my life where every moment was distilled into a si...

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It all sounds the same, after so long, but the sameness hides important things. Missed details, smudges obscuring the true shape of things - what’s been, what is, what will be. Yet my eyes keep s...

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It’s been too long since I’ve written regularly. But how could I bring myself to force it, on the nights I felt lost and words wouldn’t come? When the lifeblood runs thin, when the heart hardens...

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It’s not like I chose this, even though I did. It was the kind of choice like deciding to swim when you’re drowning, or trying to stop the cold as it winds it’s way around your heart. And yet her...

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