Before you, I only knew what I didn't want listed the things I couldn't do again walked away with ease picked up on a tone or phrase or one slightly dismissive shrug, and I was out,
By Kay Husnick2 years ago in Poets
When I worked in a used bookstore a few years ago, I collected trashed clearance items with permission from my manager. As books were cleared off shelves after a year or so unsold, I chucked title after title into dumpsters out back.
Back then, I kept job alerts set for Ohio emails with new listings in my industry sent right to my inbox so we could move home
Once upon a time, you were my everything my day, my night, my dreams, the air in my lungs, the warmth in my bed I told myself fairytales of us
If you could go back, would you change anything? I wouldn't change a thing Sometimes, I think about what might be different
The spellbooks say to sever a bond I need candles and string my mother says I need a lawyer the bank says I need your signature or you need mine
Karma came to get you charted course, snuck her way in, and settled down squatting in your backyard, she's a fiend whispering through your window
I bet the next one will be younger young and naive enough to tolerate the everything about you so the way you drink seems fun,
I have been writing so many little bits and pieces of poems that I can't share -- vital messages written in code, hidden away in drafts,
I know the way things rot. Brown and white slime on sugar snap peas, black fuzz on applesauce uncovered and abandoned, the expanding plastic of a milk jug kept in the fridge weeks past the best by date,
Remind me how it feels to fall in love a fresh start, a first kiss, butterflies and our surroundings disappearing around us.
Each day passes, and we keep going on this cycle around the sun, each moment extending our lifetimes another second. If you think about it, we are constantly eclipsing our
