Tag Archives: spilled ink



There’s always something going on,

distractions that focus our attentions

like lengthy lines of excuses

perfectly cut with razors

and inhaled into our brains.




something happens in my brain,

I’m afraid

that there will always

be a part of me

who’s more comfortable being sad

and when I’m happy

I drink

just to dull the illusion,

as if knowing

the other shoe will drop

so much easier

if I cut the laces myself.

Softer Voices

It all comes down to the voice,
that one moment
when the tones come clear,
the names we go by
and silently keeping
all those secrets
that we only tell ourselves
in our dreams at night.

Falling off the fast track

I want so many things
that I tend to lose track,
I forget
where it was I started
and the real side of me
shows its face
and does nothing
but frighten
all the people passing by.


We taste it

when they speak,

like there were more than sound waves

leaving lips,

like forgotten thoughts.

I’m still alone while I listen

and while sadness

brings my eyes to spit

the only thing left for me to do

is call out for help.

Almost a Promise

She claims that she loves me,
like claiming
was really catching
and all I can really feel
is that she’s trying to convince herself
more than she’s
convincing me.

Thrown Back

We see it in ourselves,
like a pale stare inviting us to sleep
while our endless day
keeps rolling us over
and with every flip and turn
the cuts and bruises
begin to smother our skin,
leaving only a reminder
of who we used to be,
someone we once recognized,
but now only see glimpses of
in the windows still dark enough
to catch our reflection.