Tag Archives: Love

Cliche (NaPoWriMo #5)

Every time I turn on the radio

It seems like another sensation

singing about their heart.

Bruised, broken, in love, what have you

it always comes back

to a muscle in the chest.

I could be a cynic

but loving someone

from the bottom of your heart

is a bit cliche.

I’d rather look someone in the eyes

and tell them their touch

pleases every nerve in my body

that their presence sends warmth

from my skeletal frame

outward to the surface of my skin.



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D.I.Y.L.O.V.E. (NaPoWriMo #1)

I want someone to craft with

cuttingĀ hearts out of each other’s old t-shirt fabric

I’ll wear your years of stains where ever I go

by patching up a torn up jacket.

while traversing the nostalgia-scented glowing hills

of clothing left untouched in the drawers

guided by a map

left by the wrinkles in the scraps

you may see salvage.

I see the beginning of an undying love.

brighter than your flourescent middle-school graduation shirt

softer than the fleece

lining your once favorite flannel.

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Beauty and Wisdom at 8:50 by the Exit of the Thrift Shop

Up at register 1 it is 10 minutes to close

An elderly woman walks up to the counter

A cart filled with glass knick-knacks and used sentiment

I begin to wrap them up in the already irrelevant news of yesterday

She looks me in the eye and says faintly

“Please. Don’t hurry”

It’s been on my mind, helping me through everything

Hanging up, acting as a backdrop in every scene of my life

Reminding me to be delicate when it matters

Reminding me to be calm when all is in chaos

“Please. Don’t hurry”

She opens her gaudy, ancient wallet, taking out exactly $23.87

Her hands shake with the age of ninety years

She grabs her bags and begins walking out to the car

All I could hear, resonating in the back of my mind, were the same words

“Please. Don’t hurry”

I know now that I will be with a girl one day

The sun will reflect off of the water, being absorbed by her beautiful dark hair.

Her beautiful dark hair that will hang partially into her perfect face

nearly obscuring one of her radiant eyes that beg for my attention.

She will push the hair out of the way, leaning forward

I will kiss her softly in a moment of bliss in its purest form

In all of this excitement I will feel the backdrop fade into the foreground

“Please. Don’t hurry”

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