little blurbs


“Here we are.”

I gasped for a bit of breath as I took my final stride up the hill. It wasn’t really one of exasperation, just unatheleticness (I remember the last time I ran a mile– it was freshman year gym and the only bad grade that tainted my line of As).

“Are you okay?”

We made eye contact for the first time in 30 minutes. My eyes had been set on the dirt that moved beneath my feet, or the dirt that I moved over, whichever it was. Now i faced pools of blue, against more of the same.

“You haven’t said anything this whole time.”

I didn’t move. My face made no adjustments. I stood and I drowned.

“Okay, then.”

We broke our shared gaze. I jumped out of the pools and found myself gasping for air again.

little blurbs, thoughts

Beautiful daze

Imagine the days when you said life was a haze:

a soft hue of cream wheat fields,

and a lavender daze we recognized as lilacs.

All you needed to understand was a deep breath

to come through your lungs and to cleanse your soul

of dark blues

and grey booze,

realizing the world is nothing without its views.


little blurbs, thoughts


My earphones are tangled in a way that reminds me linguini,

touching and twisted like vines creeping up a tree makes me think of

human knots and warm interlaced appendages,

smooth and soft like dogs you encounter on sidewalks on streets that

wind and intersect with gravel-patched and asphalt beaches,

rough and trodden like the trails in the woods which I see as

weird paths leading everywhere and nowhere and the same place,

oddly familiar because of it we all walked outward.


the world vs. the world

While you were saying goodbye to the flowers the last time I had you over,
I apologized to the lamps for not getting the same attention.
It seems that you prefer green.
I prefer gray.
But maybe that’s just because I have become a way
or maybe just something in the way,
a road block in the flow of the world,
but only because I’m so confused when I’m swirled
around in circles imperfect
because they were too perfect
to be true to you and your tree-hugging habits.
It’s something I wish I could have and take classes
I admire this.
I admire the woods,
but I am stuck in an abyss
of tech-raved Best Buy goods.
Save me!
Take me!
The hell away from tweets on phones
and next to tweets from birds prone
to eating berries in bushes
and living in trees luscious.
I am unhappily accepting of gray,
but no one every asked me what I say
about the color of metal.
It’s something I’ve settled
for, though I secretly hope for more.
You did not hope.
You walked until you were sore,
through the mountains and rocks and grass,
and I hope I’m not being too crass
to say “damn, look at that ass.”
Show me the hills, valleys, depths,
for these will be the memories I will keep kept
locked in the back of my mind,
and I don’t think I would mind
being a little rough around the edges
if it means I can play in the hedges
rather than staring at moving words
and missing the entire world.