Vanilla Writing
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Hiatus
I’ve been gone. I’m not even sure why I’m back here. DJ isn’t forcing me to write, he’s not even here, he’s staying with friends in Denver, I’m sleeping in a guest bedroom with family. My home was in the floods. I don’t usually share such specifically identifiable information, but the spammers can enjoy it. There’s nothing like natural disasters and tragedy to show you who your friends are. And who they aren’t…
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Little Lies
Is it really lying if you both know it’s a lie? Isn’t it just… a temporary suspension of disbelief? Like going to the theatre… Just turn out the lights and tell pretty lies and suspend your disbelief just for a little while… Can’t it be kind to suspend disbelief for a little while? If you both know it’s a lie… Can’t it be a gift? To say… You are worth something to someone…   You are good and decent… You are lovable… You are loved… Is the truth really better?
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Untied Strings
Sometimes our strings must come untied…
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Euthanasia
Some times that decision is easier than others. Some times you can look at a situation and it rips your heart out of your chest but you know there is, absolutely, without a doubt, no other course of action but to end it all… Other times… there is doubt. Those are the bitch of a times.
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Grief – Anaphora
Grief Grief Grief is shards of ice flaying my skin. Grief is a cold anchor tearing at my heart. Grief is a heavy shadow, curling round my spine. Grief is a keening shriek scraping on my ribs.
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Broken Toys
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Summer – CW – drabble
In a moment children will splash, friends will laugh, voices will rise and fall.
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I Remember
I remember monsters under the bed. I remember earthquakes. I remember playing with my neighbor’s Barbie dolls and wondering if they would melt in the drier. I remember wondering if crayons would melt in the drier, too. They do. I remember Mt. St. Helens and cars covered with ash. The TV news was showing the mountain exploding, over and over again. I remember when Reagan was shot. It seemed like the TV was on all the time. Everyone got quiet when they talked about it.  They whispered about Kennedy, it was one of those things… “Where were you when you heard the news?” It’s just something everyone knows.
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Pain (self-injury)
I’ve heard it took 49 days for the Buddha to become awakened. It took me a heck of a lot longer than that, and I only touched it for an instant. But I remember that instant. A flash, but not so dramatic. A flash without fanfare, so soft and subtle that it almost didn’t matter, and that meant everything.
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Awe
do you ever read something so simple and yet profound, something that touches a place inside of you, so deep that you suddenly want to die, because of the beauty of it? maybe that’s just me.
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Dog Days
I walk out past the barn, past the sheds, and through the gap in the fence that is old, twisted barbed wire to my left, and old wood plank to my right. Grasshoppers leap up and out of the path of my feet, an unending cascade of dust-brown bodies parting like waves before me. Out of the cascade every so often, one takes flight, bursting from a tight bullet body to a frenzy of black, yellow-tipped wings.