the world & words of a new york city writer

gretchen is a writer in new york city

Category: writing (page 11 of 109)

incinerate insignificant

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.

direction (of diving)

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.

tides of together

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. Continue reading

greeting goodbye for a fake hello

greeting goodbye for a fake hello

Reaching the point where I am. Out. I’m out.
Unlike your ex, I won’t call for your couch.
I am not a species designed to shout.
36 years and I’ve never once slouched.
Don’t think I’m sad. Or even. Hurt. Walking
In shadows; all that I had. Do you think
If I felt, I would continue talking
? Don’t have to close two eyes. Only one. Wink.
Your memory failed us. Waving white flag.
You induce numb while I ignite this. Life
Blowing rings. Tipping crystal. Standard swag.
This knowledge-less land knows nothing of strife.
Next time you treat someone like you did me,
I hope you embrace what starting can be.

breakfast

breakfast

he tastes like vodka and cigarettes and
morning. with the softest secrets between
our balanced exchange of ask and command,
today begins – setting another scene.
i watched him sleep and listened to him breathe,
flickering eyes, speaking whispers in dreams.
the moment you find your way to believe.
hold faith in your heart and know what it means.
there were rain clouds where the sun should have been,
a cobalt grey sky and cool autumn wind.
answers appear in shape and style of him.
resetting history. spin and rescind.
he turned. i rose. exhale each other. hush…
when feeling consumes. beyond realms of much.

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