VeinsI wishmy veinsof ocean blueflowed not justto my heart,but toyours too.
What It Means To Be A ParentWhat It Means To Be A Parent2014.06.05Katherine LeeWhile everyone says to truly understand what it means to be a parentyou won't understand until you are one.But I am one.They said they just looked into the eyes of their child and thought,this is my baby, my child and I love him/her unconditionally.I thought the same thing when holding that little ball of fur in my hands.They say but you didn't give birth to yours.But parents who adopt a child love them as their own.You're suggesting adopted children are loved less? But their "parents" didn't look into the eyes of their child and think what we did.Perhaps our capacity to love and understand is just greater than yours.But they say pets are "just animals", they don't have feelings.As a scientific reminder, humans are in the class animalia, meaning we are animals, so, we don't have feelings?You say you don't have scientific proof they have feelings.We say you don't have scientific proof that they don't.They say "animals"
Archaeologyi'm making galaxies in my coffeebecause in bourbon i lose my buoyancystirring and stirring and stirring the stars subduedin murky depths of half-lidded hues,some trancelike worldthat beingin between wake and wane,an ethereal flamestoked by hydrocarbons(do not drink; toxic if ingested,and propane (by the way)is flammable)the disjointed is fluidthe inky blackness in my cupand the dripping mocha from the sky.i am most awarein the private hours of the morning,when the rest of the diurnal life has closed its eyes to the worlds i see in their dreams,when we have let go enoughof the somnambulance of the sun,stripped down thin enoughto slip between the pillars of creation,and blow bubbles through the eye of the needleand settle restlessly enticedentwined by the roots of the cosmos.i've let go of myself,let the dust mites munch on the faces that flake off,atom by atom,little bits of fluff that The Sculptor whittles away in corkscrews and puffs;The Excavator brushes
The Heart Necklace A child sits numbly at a table the chairs across from him are empty.Children race about around him and he watches as their attention dashes through him. He wears a heart necklace the red of a summer sunriseand plays with it idly between his fingers. It can be split in two but it stays as one. Someday, I'll find someone to wear this with me He whispers, almost as if to console himself. A teenager sits meekly at a table the chairs across from him are empty. Other teens text and chat with their friends and he watches as one girl smiles at him with honey eyes. He wears a heart necklace the red of his blushing face and he plays with it idly between his fingers. It is split in two but both pieces are around his neck.Someday, she may wear this with me He whispers, almost lost in his shy giggles.A man sits proudly at a table the chair across from him sits a woman with honey eyes. Anyone else w
The Moment Before.Some days I can’t even get out of bedSo I lay there in the shadows with the voices in my headAnd they torment me with memories and things I had to chooseSomehow it ended up no matter what it is I loseBut I put on my best smile and nobody can tellI’m not as happy as I seem, in fact, I’m doing wellI stare myself down in the mirror and thought I’d at least tryTo make it through another day I tell another lieI’m alright…That’s exactly what I’ll say if anybody asksI’m alright; I’m okay with living life behind these masksNobody has to worry because I’m obviously fakingI’m permanently stuck in the moment before breakingI’m a pile of emotions all cluttered on the floorWith so much weight attached I can’t hold it anymoreBut I’ve learned to live a lie and nobody can tellThat I’m just about to fall apart, In fact, I’m doing well.
House of the Residents: Chapter 1CHAPTER 1: SYNTAX“You and I will then scale the rooftop until we’re at the highest point.”“Oh yeah? Then what’ll we do?”“I think I know bird calls well enough to summon thousands of them-““You know the birds don’t like to come around here.”“Yes, yes, but I’ll be able to convince them, trust me. Then we’ll ride them like a magic carpet out of here forever! I’ll finally show you a proper painting, too. How does that one sound, Erica?”“It’s a fantastic idea, Prerita.”Memories swept through Erica’s mind quick as a speeding car. There were so many stories to tell about Prerita, so many good things to say. But scanning over the faces that stood in front of her, Erica noticed none of them seemed to care. Not that that was surprising. Prerita was another casualty, another one gone mad to them, another one who “hadn’t been strong enough
I Found A Time MachineI found a time machineof this I must be sureor something near enough to allow me a few more moments of happiness.I found a time machine of this I must hopeelse my bed has played a cruel trick on me.I found a time machineof this I believeevery time I close my eyesI see you there beside meyour happy smile radiatingthe joy you gave to me .I found a time machinethis I know is trueand though it only lasts the nightdisappearing once realitydecides to yet again curse me,I want to find a way to keep youto shelter you from the past that stole you awayand return you to my future,to my present,to my heart.I found a time machineto give me what I can't let gobut it only works for meof this I've come to knowso since I can't bring you
infinityGraffiti knurls on my complexion;arcane and tribal fissuresemblazonryof medicine men.My inveteracywanesin a secret calendar.Your eyes cradle in their cheekslike new clouds in a glassblandishing all in their radiuswith promises of youth.
