
Grab your keys
don’t waste your youth tied
to one place
one idea –
slacks and button-downs
Monday through Thursday
casual Friday
leave
take your lover
go see it all
(Photo featuring art by Barbara Kruger; courtesy of The Broad Museum)

writer | écrivain | ékwiven

Grab your keys
don’t waste your youth tied
to one place
one idea –
slacks and button-downs
Monday through Thursday
casual Friday
leave
take your lover
go see it all
(Photo featuring art by Barbara Kruger; courtesy of The Broad Museum)
Vodka
First taste, first touch.
Long nights throwing up.
Hard lessons growing up.
Can’t say I’ll miss you all that much.
Whiskey
Tears and regret spilling onto hardwood floors.
Climbing out of taxis, searching for the love we all deserve.
Used to steady my soul (or so I thought).
The writer’s choice of self-destructive elixirs.
Gin
Bitter all the way down, ‘til you add olives and vermouth.
Held me up when I was but a husk.
Kept me together, kept me numb.
Pushed my body to the point of breaking.
All I’ve learned from these three, buried in my bones like hidden treasure.
Vodka, Whiskey, Gin – nearly a decade of love/hate, now it’s farewell, so long, our time has finally come.
lights
this is your story
love
no matter how hard you tried
couldn’t get enough
all wrapped up in
pain/pity
plated in glory
a crash, a bang
how IT all began
and nearly ended
spinning
glass flying through the air
out onto road
now you’re here
alive
all wrapped up in
love


beside the ocean tucked away
a quiet, lonesome, blooming place
life and death wrapped up together
blossoms, one in all forever
can’t see straight,
too many li(n)es to make anything into solid shapes,
eyes wide, head no longer filled with ache,
heart dancing, mind awake,
every nerve unsettled, watching every wall break,
when sleep finally calls
take me and let it
all
fall
away.
Tea cooling next to love letters on the window sill,
dreams real yet surreal, almost tangible.
Sea and mountains in your lungs,
memories, monuments to beloved moments past.
Lessons sewn into your very marrow,
tangled up with the movements of your unconscious mind.
Breathing in every millisecond,
each precious opportunity for growth and death.
Growth and death, an endless cycle,
swirling in your teacup, like leaves
in the autumn breeze.

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