This is me Hiding in the corner with a book lost in someone else's imagination
I wish I could tell you that it goes away, that it gets better, that you'll get over it.
I hate to kill you, I'd hate to die, you seem a decent fellow as well
I could have pretended to be something like all of them, I could have played a game and fit in with those around me and I knew if I did I would never really be me
I don't have to keep living, Loving, Growing. I get to.
Every other day of the year he's dead. Today he lives in my mind. The funny smart-ass kid that bounced around when he was six and I was eleven, I was Matthew and he was Matthew but when we finally got to meet he became Little Matt and I became Big Matt. Uncle Matt is … Continue reading Ghosts With Bones
That's important, that you tell people good things you see in them. Not everyone can see good in themselves.
I saw him. He held a razor to his wrist, tears streaming freely down his cheeks. He kept whispering, "Just do it. Just do it. Just do it." I saw him, trying to convince himself to cut his life off, and I had no idea how to stop him, or if I should try. When … Continue reading Reaching Back
Through the darkness, the beast stalks slowly, cautiously, tasting the air, peering through the shadows perked ears straining for the slightest shift, the indrawn breath silently probing the impenetrable darkness for sign of the prey prey which too suddenly could become predator there, the whisper of flesh against tree-trunk frozen, the beast fixes upon targeted … Continue reading Again The Night