January 2012
1 post
5 tags
I miss people I used to feel connected to that I never speak with any more because they drifted. I miss feeling like I matter. I miss someone I was supposed to have forgotten about years ago, as if I could just walk away. I still think about her, I still dream about her. I miss sex. I miss feeling desirable and making someone else feel like she’s the most beautiful woman on the planet....
October 2011
4 posts
4 tags
You tighten the leash You steady your voice as you Issue another demand Your iron confidence is paper-thin And your leash is a Cheap masquerade, a ruse A thrown voice, a paper tiger You are fractures and sighs and slumped shoulders You are the tightened edge of a forced smile And you hate that I see through you
7 tags
Glass barrier locks you out And locks me out So we burn down our evenings Watching and longing and aching
I could wait a thousand years It’s too sweet having each other But itches need scratched And I can’t get younger Let’s feel without feeling for another night
Use what you’ve got Don’t waste what you’ve got Don’t wait for permission And miss...
6 tags
You were a whisper. You were breathed into my life and gone almost as quickly as you arrived. You imprinted yourself onto my skin, a scar, so that I couldn’t forget you after you had dissipated into nothingness. I gladly absorbed you and let you cling like cigarette smoke. You burned me from the inside out with your recklessness and asked that I proceed with equal abandon. On cold...
7 tags
One by one, the old icons fall. The old gods, objects of faith and endless trust, dedication and devotion. They are torn down by the piercing laser light of insight as the tools provided are used as weapons against ages-old institutions that are failing. It’s an effort to snuff out the lies, to weed away life’s falseness, to pierce the cheap plastic veneer, to tear away the...
September 2011
2 posts
August 2011
4 posts
6 tags
I adored you. I loved the way every unique bit of you was put together in composite to create a perfect woman-architecture. I became a student of you, I wanted to learn and explore and discover you. You were a wonderful maze, never entirely to be solved and I wanted to never quite finish being surprised by the new and inimitable ways in which you were beautiful. I loved the depth and warmth of...
8 tags
She felt naked on the inside, empty and cold, when the news came. She felt hard ground give way under her feet and she felt her stomach rise up as she went into free-fall and tumbled downward. She attempted to cling to whatever she could find and she took comfort in place of stability if it worked for a moment. A gift in the form of a check from her estranged family, a drink, too many drinks,...
6 tags
hidama asked: What are 10 things that are beautiful to you?
7 tags
She felt made of charred, ashen things, of the gray, dried embers that remained after the last sun-hued glow had burned out of an evening’s fire. She was driven by fire once, fueled by the combustibility of her own desires and unburdened by the trammels of age and propriety. In those days, she awoke with purpose and an eagerness to fight, to love, to hate to live in each degree of the full...
July 2011
1 post
5 tags
The cracked streets etch a fragmented sigil onto the city, fragmented like my memories, like the signature of a great, overpowering fate that has made its mark on my heart, claimed me and gone. Those streets were vessels rich with life-blood, vital and pulsing to the beat of loud music and young sex, packed with the city’s night-children who were blissfully ignorant to the possibility of...
June 2011
8 posts
8 tags
Crime is what you call it when poor people fuck someone over for money.
The American dream is what you call it when rich people fuck someone over for money.
5 tags
I’ve never heard silence. Not the near-silence of a still room, with the distant hum of an air conditioner or someone shuffling around in the room next door or rattling keys as they open the lock. Not the friendless nights with no conversation and no sound but the rain tapping on a roof or a dog barking across the street. Not the almost-silence of a shared heartbeat and sympathetic...
5 tags
You are the rosy glow of light as the sun pushes up against a black night sky. You are the velvety-soft flower petals that bloom on a May morning. You are dew-drops that form on blades of grass as the chill of night gives way to the powdered warmth of daybreak. You are the natural sweetness of a fresh piece of fruit. You are a smile coaxed from the edge of a stubborn, jaded face grown old and...
7 tags
I can only offer a short moment’s escape, an escape from the grief and anxieties you drag like an anchor around your neck, the trammel that keeps you girded against life’s tumult. For just a moment, you can forget and we can vanish from earthly consciousness and become vapor trails in the night, we can melt into one another and float off into a charcoal sky. We will encircle one...
10 tags
“So, now I shall talk every night. To myself. To the moon… I talk to myself and look at the dark trees, blessedly neutral. So much easier than facing people, than having to look happy, invulnerable, clever. With masks down, I walk, talking to the moon, to the neutral impersonal force that does not hear, but merely accepts my being. And does not smite me down.”
- Sylvia Plath
That is...
6 tags
He is of the accident. He is of the great cosmic lie. He is of slow-moving ocean undercurrents and storms that broil and swell and sweep salty winds into little beach-front houses that have grown old with being battered by sun. He is a gale force enigma who is made of happenstance and bad luck and the spaces between, the non-things, the voids, that exist where reality never took root. He is of...
7 tags
From blue to smoky tangerine orange to inky, silver-scarred black, time moves forward and I am a solitary ghost-man wondering when my hollow shell will melt away into the ether I’m already standing in, albeit only halfway. I will struggle to pull myself through this awful transition, always struggling, always the way of our kind, to struggle and then fade. We are the finite, the...
7 tags
The faceless green-fingered mystery men with no voices or names dig their hands into my still-living corpse and drag my last breath out of me. I am watching and saying goodbye, goodbye to the almosts and the nevers and the could-nevers and wondering “what if?” because that is the only thing left to wonder. The finality and the ebb to black are clear and obvious, imprinted across my...
May 2011
7 posts
8 tags
I trace fingers over plastic keys, carving my feelings for you into the misty ether as I had once traced those fingers over your skin, tattooing my heart into your being. You disappeared as quickly and as surely, making me wonder if you were there to begin with or a product of my imagination. But I felt your soft skin grow warm under mine and your heartbeat as you pressed into me and whimpered a...
9 tags
Raindrops like half-dollars, round and warm and full of springtime scent, tap down on city streets gray and unyielding to the pounding of thousands and thousands of feet. Street names on signposts blur in the distance and become only stranger and more foreign upon closer inspection. This is a lonely afternoon in a crowded city and made more lonely by the detached movements and disregard of a...
7 tags
only on weekends. only at 2am.
An entire varsity basketball team crowded into a single room because their coach fucked up reservations and every… I mean EVERY… hotel is booked solid, including ours. They are not quiet.
A family of West Virginia hillbillies with 435 kids (rough estimate). As I punch in, the evening shift head-nods towards them and taps his arm and makes a syringe gesture. I ask if they paid in...
8 tags
hidama asked: How do you get over Writer's Block?
9 tags
The seasons changed and years passed. Before the collapse, our perception was wider and we felt more deeply. The past stretched out behind us and gave us foundation and we treasured our lives and the future was to be dreamt of and held close to our hearts. But never mind that. That world is gone and it’s decaying under our feet. Now our view has narrowed and now is all we have. Now is...
7 tags
We are part-poison Complications and complexities and wrinkles Tainting our pure-halves Invading and infecting Until we are bloated and swollen With the disease of our own animosity So we purge and we evacuate We are desperate for detoxification We drain our psychic pustules So that we don’t have to carry our sick With us as we move forward
2 tags
Your liberal compassion is a good thing but if it’s so utterly numbed you to the fact that some people are irrevocably wicked they can’t be cured and that those same people want to kill you right now and they would gladly kill you and have killed many, many free, happy and innocent people like yourself then please, please stop and think about objective reality as it exists separate and...
April 2011
4 posts
5 tags
Behind me, beating down like hot sunlight on my shoulders, a myriad potential-lives, bright and young and made delirious by their certainty and confidence, made blind by the foolishness of absolutes and the immensity of their own hubris and the strength of naive convictions. Falling backward into oblivion, these maybe-things, growing smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror of a rusted sedan,...
7 tags
For a time, she let him in. She let him in to the warm, dark, mysterious parts of her nucleus that she hid away, where secrets and ambition and hope were allowed to nestle and where her soul’s last sacred truths were seen naked and exposed, free to be unmasked without shame or confusion. In those deeper places, she was raw and vulnerable and crazed by the honesty and simple purity of her...
4 tags
Is anyone else as sick as I am of a life filled with facile, paper-thin faux relationships that don’t amount to anything other than time wasted before the next set of facile, paper-thin faux relationships? Is anyone else as I sick as I am of the way society ignores or outright condemns any expression of passion or dedication or determination that doesn’t result in cash profit? Does...
March 2011
3 posts
5 tags
In the face of loss, you endure. In the face of dysfunction, you endure. In the face of death, you endure. In the face of tragedy, you endure. You endure beyond years and miles and oblivion. You endure beyond the weak shell of a body you nest in for three score and ten (or less). You endure and endure. You are the human spirit itself, you are made of the composite love and beauty of the...
7 tags
You matter. You are the entirely unique cohesion of your elements, a signature reticulation specific and unrepeatable. There will never be another person like you. More importantly, you are a swelling ocean of bright potential; you are pregnant with a latent universe of love and hope and you’re the only one who possesses it, the only one who can birth it into our scummy, tragic little...
4 tags
Wanting to fit in was always a bit of a waste. Even now, I recognize that it would make things easier and more smooth, to conform effortlessly to society’s ideals and preconceived notions and part of me really wants the lack of friction and social approval. But I’ve learned that the pain of strangeness is the price I pay to be myself. Self-ownership is a very real and pure...
January 2011
9 posts
2 tags
tongue in cheek
Been stabbed in the back More times than I care to know Human pin cushion
6 tags
The thing I wish I could communicate about depression is that you don’t wish for it and you can’t wish it away. People who are not themselves prone to depression think it’s kind of like being in a bad mood and they’ll say well-intentioned things like “Hey, cheer up!” or “You should watch a funny movie!” that are appreciated but missing the point. ...
3 tags
you are more beautiful than words can sufficiently describe…. you mean more to me than i’ll allow myself to articulate…. not having you in my arms in any given moment is my life’s biggest regret and i live with it constantly… when i’m sad, that’s why
8 tags
I am made tired With eyelids growing heavy By talking and talking And never hearing back My heart longs for the kind of trust That contentedly sighs “Alright” When I whisper “It’s fine, angel love” “Everything will be fine”
6 tags
In the movements of your pen-stroke, I feel a beautiful, feminine fluidity. Your lines are kinetic and convey a lovely motion, like waves lapping at a moonstruck beach. You defy stagnancy. Your art vibrates and breathes and lives. It is wholly organic, as if a flower plucked out of the soil or a network of dividing tree roots, drinking earth and water as it grows. Intricate patterns and...
6 tags
I feel as if I had lived this before. Not in recent memory but in the recesses of my mind and my heart, in the ancient corridors where life bloomed before I was ever born, as old as time itself, I feel a lingering sensation that tells me that none of this is new. My conscious mind knows only obvious things, tangible things, but my forever-mind reaches back through eons and touches its smoky...
3 tags
I dreamt I went to an irreligious atheist palm reader. Now that I think about it, I’m not sure how she wound up doing that but that’s a dream for you. I gave her my palm and she looked at it and said, “This is a big ol’ crease and here’s a vein and I think you need some lotion,” and then she charged me.
(This is not a Steven Wright joke. Real dream.)
6 tags
Writing exercise: Sensory observations
I hear the clacking of my keyboard, the final guitar chords of a punk rock song ending and droning, a neighbor’s small dog barking like the shrill squeaks of a rubber ducky being squeezed but at twenty times the volume.
I feel the familiar and comforting sensation of keys underneath my fingers, the heaviness of my eyelids drawing themselves closed...
6 tags
Animal noises spat through clenched teeth Hot, acidic ocean of colors and sounds Wailing and shrieking and piercing into hearts Words casting bright, white light And anger and heartache and directionless passion Take on new dimensions, new vitality More tangible and audible and true than ever Spending frustration, numbing jangled nerves Heightening a sense of togetherness And personal...
December 2010
29 posts
10 tags
In the deepest, darkest hours of the night, my thoughts alight on your contours, on the color and texture of your skin. I lose myself in the shape of your shoulder, the nape of your neck. I want my kiss to land softly on your cheek, to brush against your downy hair, to trace over your cheekbone as you flush with the glowing warmth of shyness giving way to urge. I want to kiss you deeply, to the...
12 tags
The old Chrysler rolled down the interstate and tiny flecks of snow began to fall. Christ, he thought, snow. Snow is all I need. He was in a hurry and anything that could impede him or slow him down was just piling more anxiety on top of his already heavy burden. He drove alone, the passenger seat empty except for a suitcase. THE suitcase. He had no idea what was in it, except that it was...
8 tags
Slinky, green-eyed cat Lurks by the periphery It’s his home now, too
7 tags
I sensed that the part of you that was once broken was the part of you that was fragile and trusting. You must have been so brave to move on and heal, you must have been so strong to find your legs and stand up and keep moving. I am impressed in myriad ways at the tenacity of your spirit. Yet the scars are etched into you like hairline fractures and my heart aches with a desire to reach out to...
3 tags
I've written my own epitaph
I’m getting on in years (I’m soon 28) and I’ve decided it’s time to settle my estate and make peace with my creator. I’ve also written my own epitaph, which reads as follows:
Here lies Dorian Michael Peace A great man, probably the greatest To those who knew him and even to those who didn’t He was brilliant, wise, loving, gentle Passionate, clever,...
7 tags
Open the letter Spider’s web of words and tones Wraps around my skull
7 tags
His skin was aged and weathered by the forward motion of years. In his life and his words and his music, he begged time to stand still. He wanted to reach into the cold, endless night and pluck her essence, her vapors, her love-pheromones out of the air and keep them close to his heart but they dissipated as surely as she left so long ago. He wanted to reach back through the years, to when his...