Category: ‘writing’

i dreamt. another.

October 13, 2014 Posted by gretchen

i dreamt. another.

he had a way. to push my sharp edges
like i had. never been touched prior. like
we could agree on a place off ledges.
we found somewhere warm. i became. a kite.
i walked on clouds and stomped out past. i kicked
an inside out style to redefine. i
twisted, tied and tore ways of being sick.
i counted who heard smiles and who heard cry.
my fingertips curled to lack of feeling.
a prior belief; of knowing a touch.
he spoke my full name, sending me reeling.
have you ever used words to express much?
something in my body restructured. faith.
devour logic. the comfort it craves.

Tweet about this on TwitterShare on Google+Share on RedditShare on FacebookPin on PinterestShare on Tumblr

involuntary catch

October 12, 2014 Posted by gretchen

involuntary catch

every fist. unidentifiable.
i let hands grab this nothing that ever
attempted to act like we were try-able.
my permanent gift is accept never.
i mean. please. hush. cut. outside. solution. (more…)

Tweet about this on TwitterShare on Google+Share on RedditShare on FacebookPin on PinterestShare on Tumblr

incinerate insignificant

October 10, 2014 Posted by gretchen

incinerate insignificant

i once wove a web that tangled my feet.
stories and fiction for feelings on me.
never before had i tasted deceit.
you said you were sorry. i disagree.
island hide isolation. your new life.
three years deep. i’m done hollowing inside.
and you’ll never mention your 10-year wife,
after i collapsed, how could i divide?
clouds came finally, encasing only. truth.
do you know how long that i could not see?
corruption of lost devouring youth,
no thought toward what being in love should be.
sweet hindsight brings grace of being set free.
i lit that piece of life, ancient debris.

Tweet about this on TwitterShare on Google+Share on RedditShare on FacebookPin on PinterestShare on Tumblr

direction (of diving)

October 8, 2014 Posted by gretchen

direction (of diving)

patterns of vision. luster combustion.
this light. off of him. onto him. this
pace slowing head turning stop
where you realize that the two of you
did not cease. running. i escaped
and he turned. i stopped. and i never
pause to stand in one place. i keep
the pull of the moon and sun’s heat
in the palms of my hands. he felt hot
to me. like something individual to fit
a space unknown as vacant. heart
swell casting.
thrown
into jump.

Tweet about this on TwitterShare on Google+Share on RedditShare on FacebookPin on PinterestShare on Tumblr

tides of together

October 7, 2014 Posted by gretchen

tides of together

i met him. another. morning
after the other before another;
because men? they (just) simply
again and again and again.
so… i looked up and he was
down. do you really know what
it takes being (?). he stole a
piece of me. too long ago. now
to recall back then. nevermind. (more…)

Tweet about this on TwitterShare on Google+Share on RedditShare on FacebookPin on PinterestShare on Tumblr
  • Subscribe

    • RSS Feed
    • Instagram
    • Twitter
  • Who's Online

    22 visitors online now
  • select archives

  • popular topics

  • DISCLAIMER

    FollowMeToNYC expresses daily thoughts of Gretchen Cello that tend to change with the tides. Naturally these concepts do not reflect those of her employer... or anyone else you may see her walking down the sidewalk with one day.
 
Content Protected Using Blog Protector By: PcDrome.