it probably won’t matter
in ten year’s time will it?
i won’t even remember
when the time comes
will i? sitting down on
my own bed on my own
floor in my house, will i
even remember right
now sitting on this bed
at this moment bursting,
no, fighting the bursting,
fighting to make it not
matter right now. but a
part of me hopes i do.
because it’s important.
because it is.
the evening undressed
itself at my door. hello
again, i said. have you
come to stay this time,
i asked. once again his
reply was no.
when will he change his
mind? the question keeps
me from sleep. am i not fair
company? wish it wouldn’t
bother me. wish i could
keep him out.
Episodic Spring 2013, Issue 2 is out!
click the picture to go to the magazine!
edit: CLICK HERE
The tired knocking on the
heart. The gold gaping pain
there has always been. Light
sweeping into the room from
under the doorframe. Your
shadow.
i was just thinking
you know how everything
turns to dust one day?
even the biggest things,
like whales, or elephants
fall apart. even the bigger
things, like dinosaurs,
fell on the earth,
mixed with the dirt
and left behind just pieces,
bones,
for us to figure out
their bigger selves by.
i was just thinking
and i thought these things
and then i thought i just
shouldn’t think so much.
They say you’d better watch out
for the quiet ones.
That means the world best
watch out for me.
That means I best watch out
for the quiet within.
It might tear me down
before I do anything.
I Think I May Have Been Wrong But This Is How It Was
In one of our many three a.m. conversations
my closest friend (you would have been surprised
to know if we’d been speaking at the time)
warned me wisely against the gravitation of my desire
to reach out to you.
Do you not remember, she asked, the time
you asked if he would help you move your things
to your car at the end of school and he responded
no, why should he? The night he called you drunk
and flirted with another girl while you were on his ear
and heard it all. The day he told you that your style
of dress was sure to keep you unhappily single,
the apple of the eyes of only real weirdos.
She said if I continued I was crazy. You were
my method of self-mutilation—proof that
I didn’t believe I deserved better.
I said she took it all out of its context;
her interpretation void of all the other parts
of you she couldn’t understand.
I would walk through a hundred days of
silence for an hour’s conversation—for
one joke, one laugh, one smile.
And if she couldn’t understand,
I said I’m sorry and I’m not.
Sneak Peak of the Episodic Spring 2013 cover!
