Untitled; 198 words 

The train stalls just as I see he’s holding some other girl’s hand. I look up and out the window. I’m doing my quietest panic, seeing as I’d rather not give my fellow passengers a more memorable commute.
In the empty courtyard below there’s a figure dancing, headphone cord swaying. I title the display “rhythmic jumping.” My hand is burning. I look back at her hand in his. The burning spreads to my face. She has nice nails; way nicer than mine.
There was that one time we walked down that icy road holding hands for support and joking that we’d let the other fall. We had made some sort of bet back at the bar that we’d decided had ended in a draw. The stakes involved a number of kisses; which we now each had to deliver on. I used his hand’s support to catapult myself toward his lips.
The train slowly begins to roll again. I look up and catch the eyes of a fellow passenger. I then, almost too quickly, look back at my phone. As my stop approaches, I exit his Facebook page and note that stalking is not for the faint of heart.

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A Poem About Winter

Breathe deeply

Drink deeply

Don’t forget to live deeply*

 

Footnotes:
*You might want to breathe through your nose because I heard once that it’s better for your throat because your nose hole warms the cold air before it reaches your throat and lungs. Or something science like that.
*In addition to the usual hot beverages I highly recommend anything whiskey.
*I say don’t forget because it’s fucking cold and when you can’t feel your toes it’s easy to forget what life is.

Nail files. 

The nails are always the first to go. They peel and fall away until you decide to eventually cut them off and start from scratch.
And then you watch them grow. Eventually you think, these are definitely longer than when we said goodbye. You take care of them. They grow strong.

Someone comments on them. You then stare at them all day, admiring your work and their strength. They’re perfectly even. All the same length. 
Then one breaks. You decide not to freak out. You file it back to a nice shape and notice how much shorter it looks than the others. But it’s fine; you know it’ll grow.  

Non-Beginnings

I’m slightly opposed to the idea that a story needs a beginning.

Where does something really begin?

One can say a character’s story officially starts at birth;

but even that isn’t really a beginning.

So here I will tell you some tales,

and I will put you somewhere to start;

but as a reader,

don’t take this to be the beginning.

You know better.

An Accident of Sorts

“Do you ever think about me?”She asked him
Although he wasn’t there
He was in that space in her mind
That mimicked her heart
She knew he hadn’t made it
Past the thorns
And the dragon
Up the long staircase
And into her cavern
But she felt like he had been there
 .
An accident of sorts

Fight Against Forgetting Your Dreams

There was some sort of danger to the world.

Water was building up in the clouds from a villain creating a storm near us.

We were all going to die from the apocalyptic rains.

At first I was going to hide in these compartments that were meant for our “type” to hide in.

There were two sides to the land

And we were only allowed on the other side if we were in the compartments on the border.

But somehow I decided not to.

And I looked up at the sky and saw all the clouds.

And then I looked over and realized you were standing next to me

And you were giving me this look.

You said, “You can do it.”

And I believed you.

So with my hands, I guided the clouds in the sky.

I extracted the water and turned it into human shapes and led them down to the ground.

I led them past the trees so we couldn’t see what happened when they touched the ground,

But we knew.

When they reached the land they would become our army.

And we were saved.

Put it in My Suitcase for the Baggage

I want to remember what I saw in that dream when I woke up laughing.

Put it in my head and have that fill a little more.

All I’m doing now is writing lines of meaning.

Putting it into words and having it swim a little less.

Writing an empty love note once again.