May 2010
7 posts
3 tags
i ran into a tree when i was seven. it’s alright, you can laugh. i do too when i think about it.
i was running about the yard with my german shepherd on my heels, turned to see how much she’d gained on me and the second i righted myself my forehead slammed into a young pine so hard that flakes of bark had to be removed from my face with tweezers. knocked me out cold, but only for a...
3 tags
he pushed the coffee table up against the couch...
3 tags
i called my friend to tell her i was considering ditching my trip to new york and trekking over to san francisco instead. she squealed, and as we reminisced over my last visit she reminded me of the most odd and amusing occurrence:
we were walking back to my hotel from some random club, me holding her arm as she was drunk and unable to stay upright for more than a few steps at a time without my...
2 tags
my needs are simple. i need for you to fuck me like you hate me tonight, but love and respect me in the morning. i want your handprint outlined red and swollen on my ass, your kiss soft and delicate on my cheek. pull my hair, kiss my ear. scratch my back, hold my waist. simple.
give me that; i am satiated.
1 tag
there is something about the loss of a friend that burns deeper - cuts farther - than the loss of any boy ever could. it could be just me, how wary i am of social interaction, how rare it is that i will offer a stranger anything but the obligatory passing half smile: when i open myself up to you, when i fall in love with you and you with me, when i tell you my secrets, when i lean on you for...
6 tags
my chest fills, with emptiness. miss the feel of your beard scratching against my collar bone. replace it with someone else’s. postpone the dull ache of loss. or hug my pillow. fuck myself to sleep. pretend i’ll see you in the morning, blue eyes bright and flashing.
our futures no longer intertwined in my imagination; every thing is dead tonight. the crickets sing anyway.
4 tags
it was sunday.
it’s hot out, and muggy. i don’t think any woman alive - man either that gives a damn about his hair - enjoys these sticky carolina days. damn near one hundred degrees out doors and not much cooler inside, lest you announce how much of a pussy you are to your neighbors and start up the air conditioner this early in the year. the humidity makes it difficult to move: seems like my limbs...