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Writing

girls in the underground. | a prose piece

Posted in Writer Life, Writing by

The glow of a suburban streetlamp shines on us, three teenage girls throwing punches at one another because we have just seen Fight Club for the first time. Holed up in the weed punk smoky bedroom of one of us, we drank in the narrator’s words, Tyler’s words, with each sip from the hard lemonade bottles we passed around. Anti-capitalism, anti-authority; we are adolescent experts, of course. (And my heart beats for Ed Norton, but I’ll never tell.)

In the auto body shop’s parking lot, our pockets are empty. We are untraceable. We are anonymous. We are three teenage girls taking swings at each other in the dead heat of a summer night because we can.

 


This piece originally appeared in my poetry collection Reflections in a Dirty Mirror (2015).

If you enjoyed this piece, please consider becoming a Patreon sponsor, checking out my zine shop, or just buying me a cup of coffee to help support my writing. Every dollar makes a difference and allows me to keep plugging along at my work.

June 2, 2017
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unspoken. | a poem

Posted in Writer Life, Writing by

Two teen girls
in ragged band tees and flared blue jeans
practice kickflips
on the middle school blacktop.
Their faces flush
pink in the summer heat as
they pass glances across the asphalt,
and their skin gleams with sweat.
They can’t hold the words yet for what’s happening;
it’ll be too late by the time they can.

Two teen girls
curl back to back in one’s bed
as they whisper
across the cavernous darkness.
One tells about her virginity
gone.
One squirms to listen.
They inch closer and pretend not to notice.

Two teen girls
don’t say goodbye when
they walk away,
leaving the pieces of themselves
in the footsteps already washing away
in the rain
like tears.

Two teen girls are nowhere to be seen.

 


If you enjoyed this piece, please consider becoming a Patreon sponsor, checking out my zine shop, or just buying me a cup of coffee to help support my writing. Every dollar makes a difference and allows me to keep plugging along at my work.

April 7, 2017
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the trunk. | a flash fiction piece

Posted in Writer Life, Writing by

She didn’t know where she was when she woke to a world of blackness, no sound but her own breath. She sat up, gravity telling her she was on her back, and her skull collided with metal, a dull, ringing thud. Pressing a hand to her forehead, she heard the scrape of a chair’s legs across tile. “Are you awake?” A shock of light burst through a square above her face. A wince, a gasp, and she saw him. Bone white skin with oily black hair and gray eyes like slate in winter peered at her through the opening. “Good evening. You’ve slept long.” She thought he smiled, but the look was wolfish; she turned away. “No! Look at me!” His hand slammed against the top of the trunk. She refused. “Fine. Be that way you little bitch. Be that way!” The slat banged shut. She didn’t scream, didn’t beat against the top of the steel trunk. Instead, she let her hands wander across every surface as she listened and waited for her moment: If she didn’t leave alive, neither of them would.

 


If you enjoyed this piece, please consider becoming a Patreon sponsor, checking out my zine shop, or just buying me a cup of coffee to help support my writing. Every dollar makes a difference and allows me to keep plugging along at my work.

March 3, 2017
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eulogy. | a poem

Posted in Writer Life, Writing by

I see stars
and lightning bugs flying higher
until I can’t tell
which is which
in the humid dark of a July sky.
It’s true; there is beauty
still, but
I am not ready for it
tonight.

 


If you enjoyed this piece, please consider becoming a Patreon sponsor, checking out my zine shop, or just buying me a cup of coffee to help support my writing. Every dollar makes a difference and allows me to keep plugging along at my work.

February 3, 2017
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