There’s a poem in me today; I know it. There’s a poem about a smile which makes my chest ache and a corpse somewhere that barely resembles a body and a loss that I’ll never truly know. 

There’s a poem in me about a man that scares me and a nervous response that I regret each time it forces my face into a smile.

There are novels in me about lives unlived and restless staring at a blank sheet of paper as the stories fight amongst each other instead of preserving their selves.

There are worlds in me that you’ll never know and souls that I will never touch and lovers that will never meet without me. 

And yet I file away at the edges of the days until they are dull and blunt.



This world of us I created
is on life support;
Doomed as it can be.
And I fear
that if I stop moving,
I’d run to you.
And I fear
That I’d not save us,
but smother us.


The world seemed to be spinning faster than usual, and it was off-balance. The ground swayed and tilted and she stumbled as she walked. The people around her seemed unaffected by the rapidly shifting gravity and looked on in disgust at the drunken flailing of the sober woman before them. She was grasping at the walls desperately as she searched the maze of hallways for the elevators. Upon finally reaching the correct end of the building she shakily withdrew a key card from her bag and slid it down the receiver by the doors. She hugged the handbag to her chest and leaned against the wall.

“Deep breaths, deep breaths”, she muttered to herself, looking down to the floor as it rippled and undulated.

The doors flew open mercifully and she stumbled into the elevator, taking the metal rail that lined the mirrored box in both hands to steady herself.

“Deep breaths.”

She reached out an arm and pressed the button for her floor, as well as the two either side of it that somehow had read the same number a moment ago. She looked into the mirror as she began to ascend, staring into her own eyes. Her reflection blinked, she did not. She closed her eyes tightly for a couple of seconds. When she opened them her her reflection had turned to look behind her. Her eyes were now frozen on the mirror.

The door opened and closed next to her. Her reflection flinched at the sound. She did not.

She stared into the woman in the mirror, not so sure it was a reflection anymore, as it blinked independently and looked around the room.

The doors finally opened on the correct floor and she staggered out into one final hallway, the walls breathing rhythmically around her. She found a familiar door and inserted the key card still gripped in her hand. She silently thanked a deity she had never spoken with as she pushed the heavy door open. She left the lights off and ran to the bed, landing face-down in the soft sheets. She breathed slowly and deeply, filling her head with the sterile clean scent, in blissful darkness.