Friday, April 12, 2019


know more than your readers,
know more than you say,
know what's between the lines,
and how the rules really play.

Thursday, April 11, 2019


-but why don't you like me?
;because you ask too many questions
;and you talk too much
;and you don't listen

-what's wrong with the way I am?
-aren't we friends?

;I told you that you talk too much
;and you ask too many questions
;and your response was
;to talk more
;to ask more questions

-but we're good though, right?
-we're friends
-you're my bro

;I told you twice last week
;and at least once yesterday
;we're not friends

-can I be your friend?
-then what are we?
;barely coworkers

-ok, but can you teach me
;do you remember what happened
;the last time I tried to teach you
-bro, that never happened
-but you're my friend
-teach me something

-why not
;because you still
;aren't listening

Wednesday, April 10, 2019


to the news and the world
now seeing space unfurled,
the unveiling,
the revealing,
a real. black. hole.

but you're not really seeing,
problems of gravity disbelieving,
gravity so strong,
even light falls down,
never leaves the hole.

you're seeing just the light
that escapes eternal plight,
distorted by bending,
going near but not ending,
doesn't enter into the hole.

that's how about sight works:
you see light that reaches earth,
not being sucked down,
past event horizon crown,
into a. black. hole.

Tuesday, April 9, 2019


you're wondering what I'm doing.

knock knock
I'm no stranger to this curiosity,
likely to do things not apparent.

knock knock knock
but it tickles you that I can set up a gesture,
more complicated than the act of texting it,
just to send "I'm thinking about you ❤️"

Monday, April 8, 2019


it's silent at first.
the whispers in my head take a deep breath,
all at once, altogether, all... waiting

it's scentless at first.
my nose aches for fresh air,
grass and trees and wood...

it's still at first.
my eyes forget they're open and try to open again,
and then they close... waiting

my heartbeat picks up the pace, pounding in my ears,
suddenly so loud I want to cover them,
but the sound comes from within
I can't block it out.
my hair pits feet stretch, filling my nose,
suddenly so cloying I want to bathe,
but the smell is merely me
I can't wash it away.
my dots return, like pixel displays swimming across my eyes,
clenching my lids only adds color, greens blues reds,
but the sight is part of my vision
I can't unsee.

the quiet
the emptiness
the darkness
is not so

it's saturated
with me.


"if you leave someone alone in the dark long enough, they lose themselves" - anonymous

Saturday, April 6, 2019


I open 
the doors to my soul
the floodgates to my innermost thoughts
the windows to my world
every Sunday, 5am, CST.

Friday, April 5, 2019

Thursday, April 4, 2019


when the fall comes, I'll be waiting
for the shoreline and the sea.
when the drift comes, I'll be watching
for change to come over me.

in the meantime, I'll be building
a plan where we can be.
in the meantime, I'll be dreaming
of a place where we are free.

Wednesday, April 3, 2019


I have more fun here than I've known
and learned more than I've ever hoped,
and grown more than I thought was left,
and laughed more than I've ever shown,
and belonged more than I thought I could,
and smiled more than I thought I should,
and befriended more than I thought I could,
and done better than mindfulness alone.

Tuesday, April 2, 2019


inspiration comes at a price

dreaming through novels,
when the words on the page only drew pictures in my head;
now, instead,
every line is a mission to be
reclaimed and reconfigured,
stolen out of context
and repurposed for my own will.

sleeping through nights,
when the scenes that played in my mind were merely dreams;
now, fleeting
possibility for every story and storyline
random neurons firing becomes
random connections aligning,
bottling the magic carefully.

every line that flows
between my eyes ears brain
is free for the snatching
is free for the ravaging
is free for my mind to take ahold and run
through the streets,
a thin starving gluttonous beggar
to whom nothing is sacred.

Monday, April 1, 2019


When I was little, I used to stop on the landing and stare at the half-height door that was faintly visible underneath the wallpaper. The frame had been stripped away and the doorknob removed, and I was forbidden from asking about it.

My older brother would tell me scary stories about the door, while he held a flashlight to his face and we crouched beneath the blankets late at night. He enlisted before I was old enough to know what that meant, went away. I stopped pausing on the landing, slowly stopped wondering, and eventually stopped seeing the shape of it at all.

But on the night before my fourteenth birthday, I woke to a cold sweat, a nightmare that felt so vivid and real in my mind, and I remembered the door and the stories.

I could hear the television roaring downstairs, canned laughter seeping into my bedroom, Nanny in the family room, keeping watch.

I crept to the railing overlooking the front hall, shaking too hard to bear passing by that door... "Sarah? Sarah?" I called, until she muted the tv and came to look up at me. She took in my pale face and clenched arms around my stuffed frog in the the ceiling light, and she raced up the stairs.

"Eilie, Eilie, are you alright?"

I shook my head.

"Was it a bad dream?"

I nodded.

She knelt in front of me. "Do you want to come downstairs and sit with me for a while?"

I started shaking again with the thought of passing by the door, and she wrapped her arms around me.

"Okay, not downstairs. Come here," Sarah wrapped her arm around the shoulder and led me back into my bedroom, turning on the lamp by the door. It cast comforting shadows around my room. "Why don't you tell me about it?" She closed my bedroom door behind us.

"T-the door. On the l-landing."

"Door? What door?"

I buried my face in the frog, wiping tears on its soft, squishy head. "Sean used to... he used to tell me stories, at night, in the dark. When he left, I- I started to forget, stopped seeing it. B-but now it w-won't g-go away."

"Oh, Eilie." She held me close and started rocking me back and forth until I felt the sobbing subside. "Your brother is doing good work. You'll see him again. Do you want to show me the door?"

I shook my head.

"Do you want me to go check the landing?"

I shook my head harder.

"Eilie, what has gotten into you? I've never seen you like this before. Why don't we turn on all the lights, and you can stand at the top of the stairs like you did just a few minutes ago, and I'll go check on the landing. That way, you're not alone, you can see me the whole time, and I can make sure everything is alright."

I stopped shaking my head. "You don't think I'm being silly?"

"Not at all. Maybe it's time I told you how I handled my bad dreams. I'll even let you borrow one of my books about it."

Sarah was very careful about who touched her books, and I gazed up at her in wonder, my face still streaked, but distracted. "Okay."

"Okay." She let go of me. "I'm not going far, just going to turn on the hall light, and then I'll be right back."

I nodded.

Sarah stood up, pulled open my bedroom door, and reached around the wall to the lightswitch. The darkness in the hallway scurried away, and she came back to me. "Are you ready?"

I shook my head, but stood anyway, and she accompanied me back to the railing.

"It will be okay. I'll be right here, I'll come right back, okay?"

I sniffled and nodded.

She walked slowly down to the landing, and then looked back at me. I pointed at one of the walls, and she peered at it. "Wha- what? There is a door here. Or there used to be. I don't know why I never saw it before." She glanced up at me. "Oh sweetie." She raced back up the stairs and took me back into my room.

Sarah shut the door behind us and led me to my bed. "I'll stay with you tonight, okay? I'm not going anywhere. And tomorrow, I'll talk with your Mom and Dad, okay?" She threw back the covers and laid down.

I curled up against her, and didn't fall asleep for a long time.

more regret


when you're in over your head
and the water's rising fast,
when the tide's come too quick
and your strength just won't last,

but you have no fear of drowning
because you know how to swim...

when the miles flying by
and the road speeding past,
when traffic rears its head
and the wind tears at your mast,

but you have no fear of crashing
because you know what's at risk...

when you've got a team you know
and a boss you can trust,
when someone's got your back...
you won't fear the crunch.