Every night before I go to bed I make a wish.
Not on any star or stone, but just out loud to the darkness and the ceiling.
The wish that one day I’ll wake to find the words that describe the person I am that I’d be proud to shout as loud as I could up and down the streets.
But every morning I wake up still me and think ‘Nope, not today.’
“Despite the smile and the laughter, unbridled rage was all her body contained.”
“His greatest enemy was his only friend as the memory of a home was lost forever.”
we went down
the guns went up
monster swarmed
and darkness blinked
you stung the pain
broken bones mended
but you met the fists
again and again.
I struck the walls
in search of a door
but I hit the bricks
over and over
we slunk to the floor
soul assault covered
clutching bad moods
exhausted and bled
Oh this takes me back to the good ol’days.
When a dime of coke still cost a 20 and pay phones were still a quarter.
When we’d all hang out at Metro, which was still called Dominion, eating no-name Oreos because we’d spent all our money on blow.
It was the late 90′s…
tbc
She lived her life by fortune cookies and died by the chow mein.
‘We all have our own scars.’ You said to me one night.
‘I don’t want my own.’ I countered, rather petulantly I realize now upon reflection, ’I want to share them all with you.’
We hide ours scars and then our secrets until one day we look over and we’re sharing our beds with strangers.
As you walk down the street you can’t help but think of the old days when you wished with ever step that death would greet you in the next. But today, you can think only of the fact that you have a hole in you shirt. It wasn’t even a big one and with your arm down at your side, it couldn’t even be seen…
An excerpt of a new short story I am writing.
It was a chance meeting on the street, an inescapable occurrence in the city. We’d last spoke only days ago, one of our marathon phone chats, but you looked at me as if we’d never met —newly acquainted friendly strangers.
He’d said it was a special day, but I couldn’t place the date.
A Wednesday, a number, in the month of October?
No, just wasn’t ringing any bells.
I’d said this outloud, by accident really, and that was it from him.
He left quite early.