Writing
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The cup spills over from beneath the spigot. Moments spent receiving, while I keep track. Waiting for something to happen. Buying time. Pretending to pretend,I know what I’m doing. The cup remains, overflowing. Receiving, figuring—just give me a moment. Something comes next…But, wouldn’t I rather not? Shaking, I remove the glass from the endless outpouring andput it to my…
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Fear. You son of a bitch. It’s hard to let walls down. It’s hard to be vulnerable. I’ve done bad things because of it. I’m not always rational. Like when I pulled a knife on my ex at the dinner table. Honestly, all I’m trying to say is, I’m not perfect. I’m scared. But that…
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I reach for the stem, afraid to ask—can it exist? Small parachutes of silver, begging with tears—promise me it’s going to be okay. Cheeks full of air, a smile in the shadows, I release you in a whoosh, little seeds everywhere. I grab the next one—To letting go! And lie on my back. The sun…
fitveggielife 