Sometimes I get nervous about putting my words down on paperlike once they’re written and re-read they’re no longer a fragment of my imaginationThey’re real. For other people to take in, to judge. For myself to revisit, scrutinize. It scares me. Sometimes I like to just let them bounce around in my head for a... Continue Reading →
Expectations
Sometimes I thinkexpectations are little murderers.skulking down dark alley wayswaiting to take our livesThey mentallytear us. Like a knife,slowly moving acrosssoft flesh, bloodpouring in warning, life draining.Expectations openthat wound up-bare-handed andsearch around, graspingintestines and arteries,pulling and tainting untilwe writhe in pain.Sometimes they make it to the brain-little pathogens eating a hole creating a home in... Continue Reading →
Rewriting Relationships
I tend to see the good in peoplemy brain is proficient at turning bad behaviorinto excuses “They must have meant this” or“Obviously they care about me because….” or my favorite“They must just be going through their own thing” excuses that slowly eat me aliveI re-create narrativesof who they are as humansensuring to erase any negative... Continue Reading →
Small Doses of Happiness
I stand in the dewy grass, blades tickling my feetinhaling deeply; the morning air fills my lungsBirds sing the song of SpringTheir tranquil chirping soothing the chattering in my brainThe sun peeks above the horizon A surge of fire; it’s rays long arms reaching across the mosaic of pinks and orangesintermingling with the blue canvas... Continue Reading →
The Persevering Tides
I watched the tide nip at the sandThe waves swashed and ebbedmoving forward in grand, crashing thruststhen pulled violently backagain and againA rhythmic pattern; an aggressive lullabyEach pull stealing pieces of the sandintertwiningmolecules floating into the vastnessFurther out the water is steady, cleartinted by the blue of the summer skyshimmering like scattered glass under the... Continue Reading →
Unraveling
I like to think of myself as a spool of yarnthe other person pulls; unraveling me ever soslightly with each small tug. I lose pieces of myselfI grow smaller, weakerAs time wears on the once thick yarn now barelycovers the spool - its foundation poking out between each fine stringThe tugs at the string are... Continue Reading →
K.J Stafford 