Pieces of Me

27 notes

Oh hush, girl. You’re not fragile. – Talking to Monday over hot coffee at six o’clock in the morning.
Tuesday beckons realizations that I am, in fact, breakable. Wednesday only reaffirms the fact.
You are shattering, a piece at a time. – Thursday reminds me. The coffee has gone stale.
Friday brings jubilation – Hooray! We’ve done it! And then Saturday seeps in slowly.
See you in a week! – Saturday Evening waves a smile. My bones already start to ache for respite.
Sunday begs the birds to raise me. I pay no attention – I throw covers back over my head.

Pep talk tomorrow, six a.m. – I won’t be late. 

Filed under poetry prose writing it out rebuilding castles

34 notes


It’s like drawing breath
- a moth to a terra-cotta flame
with unyielding, lucid wings -

closing the distance between
transient heartbeats

- he once asked what love was like.
(I wish I had never told him)

[submitted by theresidentmama]

My contribution to The End

When it’s your turn, you take a piece from the previous write and turn it into your own.

Thank you, epea-pteroenta, for inviting me to take part. <3 

Filed under The End epea-pteroenta inanotherdirection

23 notes

It isn’t often, but there are times I wonder if I would be better off alone. Perhaps, in twenty years’ time, you might wake up one morning, look at me from across the room and wonder why you didn’t hold out for something better. The look of sheer disappointment isn’t one I handle well. 

Filed under prose

40 notes

Soaked and Shaved: Check
Dream Scented Body Lotion: Check
Passion Scented Body Spray: Check
Hair Tousled and Wild: Check
Red Lace Underthings: Check
Black Satin Slip with Lace Trim: Check
Red Sheer Lace Robe: Check
My Hands Becoming Yours: Almost

Filed under erotic poetry

97 notes

Let’s run away
(together) you and I
with nothing more
than pipe dreams between us
and a shared love
for balmy Autumn nights

Filed under poetry

36 notes

A few weeks after I moved into my new place, a grey squirrel became interested in me. Several times a day, I sit on my back patio to find peace, and the squirrel now comes up on the patio to see me. He usually brings a peace offering, but a couple of weeks ago, he threw an acorn at me when I asked him if I could have it. Immediately, I named him Axl.

About a week ago, I noticed Axl was playing with the same brown squirrel over and over again. His affection for me waned, and while I don’t know how exactly squirrels have intimate relations, I’m pretty sure I’ve caught them doing it before. They wrestle in the yard, they play chase, they scream and yell at each other, and it’s honestly adorable. I have named her Rose.

Love can happen anywhere.

Filed under prose

21 notes

*this is me having a moment*

Me: Gahhh! I just want to talk to him. 

Lady 1: Geez, Mom. Calm yo’ nuts!

Me: My nuts are calm. It’s no different than when you don’t converse with Sir Betrothed for a while.

Lady 1: You’re 35, Mom. It’s gross.

Me: *stares*

*reality checked by a sixteen year-old*

- Reasons I’m Alive

Filed under conversations reasons I'm alive

26 notes

*having an alcohol talk with the Lord of the Manor*

Him: Mom, don’t worry. I’m fine.

Me: No. No, you’re not fine. You only think you’re fine. 

Him: *rolls his eyes*

Me: The reason you think you’re fine is because of that seventeen year-old ego you’ve mustered up in the past few months, and that ego will get you killed.

Him: *bored sigh*

Me: *leans over table* It’s like this, you little shit, you think you’re the Incredible Hulk, but you ain’t nothing but a Minion in nice pants.

Him: You’re such a nerd.

Me: Much grounded. So wow. How’s that for nerd?

Him: *goes to his room*

- Reasons I’m Alive (to keep their asses alive)

Filed under conversations reasons I'm alive