words from the soul
You search my name on Google and find it. Everything I write. All my heartbeats and songs and moments when I cannot speak. And you hug me and look at me with awe. How do you do it? you ask, and I see a fire light behind your eyes. I do not tell you about … Continue reading For Yael, when you find me.
It's the old house feeling, the one where I enter a space I have repainted in my memory, and the souring of nostalgia wells in my throat as the colors assault me with their mismatched hypocrisy.
Where are the walls I remember? Where are the trails of my wandering feet? Where is the smell of familiar? Where is evidence I come from here? Who tampered with this scene, dotting corners with fingerprints that do not belong to me?
Dearly Beloved, One day I will die. I won't be here to tell you what that means to me. So I write this in the shadow of Death, lurking over my shoulder as he pauses his busy, busy work long enough to say hello. He and I are friends, you know. When I die, you … Continue reading When Death Comes for Me
Hunger is a passion. It sears and claws and begs… Feed me… touch me… consume me… Take this part of me that wants. It is dying to be free. Feel it, smooth and soft, and jagged. Breathe in the scent of discontent. Embrace the folds of tenderized skin. There is beauty somewhere here; it is dying to be seen. Stoke the flame, stroke the shame, bring me to my knees.
Compress a life, zip it tight and send it to the cloud. Be wary of exporting it; it may be too much for you to handle. Save it, though. Save it so that you can unpack it when you have cleared up the space you need to view it properly.
Colloquially Speaking 