top of page

The Middle

Tonight I look at my reflection in the

window, press my knuckles against my

eyelids until all I see is midnight blue and

specks of moony white.

Of course my

mind is blank, but at times I can

listen to the hum of telephone

wires and feel its warmth like the

middle of the afternoon.

Other times the wind is

long in sound, and it

turns me to stone and bone and

I wait for the shiver of it be over

until I open my eyes

again.

And sometimes, above the

howl of people and chatterbox of

cars, I can hear the

cry of a tugboat a

few miles south.

 
 
 

Recent Posts

See All
The Break Room

This is the final breaking of a bone before it can heal, the long-awaited anticipation of how badly it will hurt, my last whispered prayer before it gets worse, my loudest scream that you will never h

 
 
 
What I Know

I know everything about you that everyone else doesn’t — How you don’t like the fat on your steak, wispy singing in pop songs, your deep urge to people please and feel like you belong. I know about yo

 
 
 
Hungry

My hungry body is nothing but a nuisance these days — a low, slow, growling reminder that I am functioning on empty and need to be fed — and so I shove a handful of blueberries or buttered bread to th

 
 
 

Comments

bottom of page