What he felt about me

He answered. Valued. Understood. When I asked him what he felt about me. He said so many tiny things I somehow made bigger. If I were to lay these little words out now you’d no doubt see – sooner than me – how little he ever saw of me. See how I clung for years toContinue reading “What he felt about me”

Left behind

Gone now. An empty room I travel through, seeing what used to be there, the ghost tables and photographs, the thread chairs disappearing. What to decorate, what to add to this emptiness? But first the walking, barefoot, the reaching and touching of things that used to be here. Feeling the fade, feeling the ending, the going away asContinue reading “Left behind”

All this time (5)

8.17 PM It’s not as if she hadn’t considered this. If she’s honest with herself, and there really isn’t any point in lying now, not with his chest pressed against her back, and his hand resting against her hipbone. She’s staring at the wall, staring at the particular hotelness of this room. The textured wallpaper, theContinue reading “All this time (5)”

Without my permission

Wednesday April 17th, 2013 Today is my last day. Of what? Of being alive? Of being in this world? Not exactly, because I’m here still, in a way. I can see everything and feel everything, although I’ve been trying to get that right, because it’s not exactly feeling, is it? It’s not the same asContinue reading “Without my permission”

Somewhere else

It begins with a small impatience. Something about the light. Or the way it has been warm for three days straight. The consistency of it. The knowing. So it flutters. A quickening under the skin, beginning. The desire for something more. For something less, perhaps. No matter, as long as it isn’t the same. AsContinue reading “Somewhere else”

All this time (4)

5.24 PM I’m finishing my third wine; I tilt the glass at you each time I make a point, flirting over my nervousness, drinking it away. Twice now, we have touched. Fingers taping on arm to emphasise, a gentle shoulder push at something controversial. Easy, inconsequential, like the little stories we are trading. It feelsContinue reading “All this time (4)”

All I see

I am wrapped in something silver. Shivering. They keep calling me m’am, and they take turns with their questions, pressing gently against my confusion. I am trying to concentrate, trying to swim up through my saturation, but my eyes keep going to their belts, their thick black weapons like anchors, and how I could justContinue reading “All I see”

Not what I imagined

Jane So this is what it is like to be dead. It is not what I imagined. Though imaginings seem very limited now, the things one can dream and feel when we are alive. Now that I am dead. I am dead. What a strange distinction. Between me before, and me now. Before I wasContinue reading “Not what I imagined”

The possibility of you

The possibility of you sustained me over lifetimes. Through every lonely, dusty summer, and the tempest of our winter nights. Season upon season of your warmth and withholding. Such famine and feastings of the heart, endured. The famine and feast my heart endured. (That cracked continent under my skin, owing all its hungers to you). You. TheContinue reading “The possibility of you”

The tragedy of our ending

The Memory of Stars Maggie I am watching the coffee stain my fingers as you lie dying in the gravel. It is a morning of bright blue promise. The breakfast show host is laughing at his own joke, and I smile at the television without hearing the punch line.  Next up a story on howContinue reading “The tragedy of our ending”