haiku

i studied for years
it left me
confused and empty.

i tried lemme kno if i need to improve it.

[11]

i just like this song.

Eerie whispers
Trapped beneath my pillow
You won't let me sleep
Your memories

I know you're in this room
I'm sure I heard you sigh
Floating in-between
Where our worlds collide

It scares the heck out of me
And the end is all I can see
And it scares the heck out of me
And the end is all I can see

I know the moments near
And there's nothing we can do
Look through a faithless eye
Are you afraid to die?

It scares the heck out of me
And the end is all I can see
And it scares the heck out of me
And the end is all I can see

It scares the heck out of me
And the end is all I can see
And it scares the heck out of me
And the end is all I can see

* was edited

good for a chuckle.

Responsibility of the Poet

It is the responsibility of the poet to cook up clever lines.
It is the responsibility of the poet ta' kno' how ta' spelle.
It is the responsibility of the poet to P!@y with words.
It is the responsibility of the poet to__________ keep_________ you______________ reading.
It iz zee respons-y-billl-itee of zee po-et tew read wif ay frensh ack-sent.
It is the responsibility of the poet to





[leave you hanging.]

[10]

time to act your age

cracked lips,
caked with revlon,
eyes layered with the blackest black mascara.
Who knew you were fifty.
hanging out of your teenage daughters skirt.
i love your playboy bunny tank top.
No, it's not disgusting at all.
Are those ugg boots in the middle of summer?
Huh, i didn't know they were a year round accessory.
What does your lower back tattoo say?
Juicy?
well, that's one way of looking at it.

[9]
* I was watching a show about moms dressing too young for their age and that's how this came about.

Memoir

“Huh?” they said, their faces twisted in disbelief. My sweaty palms were pressed against the chairs cold exterior and condensation began to form. They didn't hide the confusion on their faces, by this time I already had a hundred butterflies in my stomach, anticipating what they were about to say.
The day began like any other day, woke up, ate breakfast , picked on my siblings, I was a normal twelve year old. It was the summer before sixth grade began ,camp ended, things around the house began to get old fast. In hopes of curing our boredom my twin sister and I developed this game that involved the living room and the couch. The objective of the game was to run as fast as you could towards the couch and beat the other to one arm of the couch. The game could entertain us for hours while sufficiently annoying my mother,who would always yell “ NO RUNNING IN THE HOUSE!”
I was the reigning champ, undefeated. No one had ever felt what it was like to be the winner, and I wasn't going to give that feeling up with out a fight.
Two Days before school began we had one last rumble, mainly because my mom wasn't home so we could run as fast as we wanted. The race began promptly after our sewing project ended, we locked our feet in position. “Woof!” my dog barked acting as referee, and we were off. I could feel the air slam against my face as it pulled my skin back taut. “BOOM!” I won the race but not without paying the price.
“AH!” I screamed.
My sister just stood there her eyes were wide, her face pale.
“What wrong?” she asked
I couldn't speak I felt the shock go through my leg to my throat holding it hostage. My mouth was dry and all I could utter was sounds of excruciating pain. “ Ca...ahh...llll mm..owww mmm!!” By then the back door swung open my mom came home, returning from a nice day of grocery shopping. Her happy face quickly changed, like a chameleon , from the “I'm glad that's off my list” face to the “What did you do this time?” face. It was the face that everyone feared, it was like being cornered, you just knew you were going to get it. “What did you do? “ her face was stern, she seemed bigger than before, her cheeks were red and puffed. “ I....can't move my leg” I whimpered feeling 8 times smaller. I unclasped my hands revealing a knee the size of a grape fruit. My knee began to swell, it throbbed ,bum bum..bum bum..bum bum., turning in to a healthy mixture of purples, blues and reds. My moms eyes widened “I'll take you to the doctors tomorrow “ was all she said before she disappeared in to the kitchen to begin making dinner.
The next day, after a restless night of sleep, I hobbled to the emergency room feeling a sharp pain with every step. After explaining what happened they decided it was just some swelling and they sent us on our way. “ You see what happens when you don't listen to you mother?” my mom said on our way back to the car, “But mom it hurts really bad” was all that came out. My knee grew to be the size of a cantaloupe and was green and purple. Sensing that something was definitely wrong and “just swelling” was out of the question we went back to the hospital. I wheeled myself to the tiny box of a doctors office, because it was hard to move my leg by this point. “ Let's see what we have here...well..well that's certainly one heck of a sprain you have there...you need an x ray.” he said through his coke bottle glasses and monopoly man mustache.
After about an hour and a half of x-rays we finally got my diagnosis. The stout doctor slowly walked back as though delivering a death wish, his face obviously puzzled “Erica, it seems as though you have some foreign objects in your knee, resembling a broken needle.”
“What?” whispered my mom completely unsold.
“You gotta be kidding me”.

[8]

it's that simple.

artwork: Maria Hinze.

I don't want to be forgotten
the worlds still spinning and
i'm not there to counteract
the vices of this, our mankind
My marks been washed over by waves of fetuses
i'm hidden behind the sheer curtain of placentae
and human discharge.

[7]