writingdownthebones-blog

[writingdownthebones-blog]

Be Careful What You Wish For

A bright 11:11 burns

my bloodshot eyes. I close them and make

a wish. The same hopelessness has churned

inside my head since you left. I take

the lighter and breathe in as deep

as I can. The smoke scorches my lungs,

but I need to forget the way your sweet

lies still cling to my skin. Making love?

No, killing time. You were always so good

at hiding the truth. I brave the bright screen.

12:00 a.m. and there’s a message from you.

Blood rushes to my head. I’m no longer floating

on a cloud, numb. I can’t close my eyes

or escape the wish I made this “lucky” night.

[writingdownthebones-blog]

When Eyes Meet on the Dance Floor

The saxophone roars.

Hips moving, people grooving.

Let’s boogie, baby.

[writingdownthebones-blog]

Moonlit Lies

My sweater still smells

like the comforting, sweet scent

of your whispered lies. 

[writingdownthebones-blog]

New Writing Blog

Hey guys!! I just made a new writing blog for my poems and other writing and just wanted to say hi! Check out my writing and tell me what you think!

[writingdownthebones-blog]

The Mansion

When my eyes close, the same memories play

of all of us in that shit building, our home.

Nights filled with cheap vodka that burned away

our innocence; singing, dancing, stoned

out of our minds. We’d push the beds

together, like we were kids again.

Music floated through our ears and filled our heads

with the classics. Some Queen. Some Zeppelin.

Bohemian Rhapsody was our

greatest hit and damn, were we

on top of the world. We toured the 6th floor;

3 rooms. 2 nights. 1 band belting off key.

I almost can’t open my eyes again when

I think of the times in our home, the Mansion. 

[writingdownthebones-blog]

A Millennial Prank

It sits on the porch.

A flaming bag of dog crap.

That is some lit shit.

[writingdownthebones-blog]

Midnight Moonlight

The faint, monotone siren wakes me

every night. Slick, wet grass tickles

the souls of my feet gliding across

the yard. The ground turns to mulch;

a floor of lifeless leaves crunch beneath

me, singing a harsher song than the quiet

blades of grass. The wind is silent, but the

trees dance anyway. I lay down on the wooden

planks drowning in a sea of small stones.

Steel rails are better pillows for my dreams.

A storybook crescent illuminates

the land. I don’t care much for the moon, though;

new or full, it won’t save me. It can’t save me.

The secret’s in the stars, but they cower

in fear of the city lights. Part of me

wants to cry for them; a child begging

for help with her tears. The siren warns me

again; louder. My head vibrates as the steel

beams react. Fear streams from my eyes, caressing

my cheek. It’s time to move. Looking up

one more time, I pray the moon won’t seem so

lonely, but it does. It always does.

The trees are still jiving, like they can hear

the secret lullabies from an orchestra

of hidden stars. If the trees could talk

they’d sing “don’t worry lil honey, it’ll

be okay”. What do they know? Their leaves

are dancing to their deaths. The deafening

siren sings one more time behind me,

dropping two octaves as I watch it

disappear around the bend. Take me with you.