THEMESÂ THATÂ YOUÂ LIKE

Be the Poem

"My life has been the poem I would have writ
But I could not both live and utter it."
- Henry David Thoreau

Red Velvet Batter

29. July 2014

Whipping Red Velvet batter around the bowl, all I can think of is how it looks like a puddle of gunky blood dripping from my whisk. My hands are smeared with red goo up to my elbows. How can people marry a butcher? Every night my husband would come home and I wouldn’t know if he had a successful day at work or if he murdered someone. I have an urge to splatter a handful of cupcake batter against…

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The Mailbox

24. July 2014

There is a mailbox on the north end of Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina. You’ll find it behind a long stretch of dunes that are taped off with twine string. The mailbox is unattended by the postal service. It doesn’t have a name or a reflective house number on the side, because it belongs to the sand and all its visitors.

I read about this mysterious mailbox when researching nearby attractions…

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Returning to the Blog World

Hello, sweet people! I obviously haven’t posted for some time. As you can see below, I was busy wedding my best friend and have since moved to our new home in North Carolina.

Burn

10. June 2014

Burn http://wp.me/s2JXbb-burn

I like complication,
delicious thoughts and
mid-afternoon puzzles
made of conversation.
I like the rattling of silence,
processing and multiplying
words and dividing intentions.
I like reflections and sand
in my shoes.
I like cigarettes and the way
the drunkenness makes
the sadness less deafening.
I like tricking my mind
into thinking that depression
can be pretty if I believe
that what it takes…

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http://wp.me/p2JXbb-cG

Animalistic

9. June 2014

She finally caged the lions
in her head, soothed the hungry
animals to sleep,
and then he rattled the bars
and blamed her for their roars.

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Power

9. June 2014

Power http://wp.me/s2JXbb-power

It’s taken me this long,
and this close,
to realize that effort,
passion, even love
can’t replace safety.
Every door opened is met
with disgust -
we hate what we find.
Gently approaching and
gaining confidence,
just to spill our venom
into the deep crevices.
I wish your words still
splattered on my stone surface -
too shallow to kill me
or keep me up all night,
wondering what words set this off.

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Steam

9. June 2014

Steam http://wp.me/s2JXbb-steam

I am tired of being
the hot cup of coffee
you have to wait to cool
before you’ll sip,
while I burn my tongue
on change and your boiling words.

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Front Porch

9. June 2014

There is faded paint on your door
where my knuckles banged too many times.
Why won’t you let me inside the home
you invited me to?

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Dependence

9. June 2014

Today I signed my name in the front of my new Paul Coelho novel, using my fiance’s last name, instead of my maiden name. I’ll have a “maiden name” soon. I use my ticket stub from seeing The Fault in Our Stars last Friday night with him as my bookmark. My fingernails are painted white on the tips from preparing for our engagement pictures.

I can’t help but feel like this is what it means to be…

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