By the end of the week i was grossly in love, and practically certain I’d never see her again.
She never came out of the building I found her in the day before- I even waited.
I looked harder for her than I’d ever looked for anything. I walked into the street because I never looked where I was going.
I tried to sneak her into everything. I changed my walk to every class, trying to find her. Looked at everyone I passed. Like a creeper. Really thought I saw her a few times. And I hung out outside. Really, I loitered. I should’ve gotten a chair and hung out at the corner.
Just one more time, though. She had to come back.
I thought I saw her one time. She looked me dead in the eyes, and I was frozen in place- I bet I drooled. She had this shameless spark of of electric blue light in her eyes only I could see. Time froze. Her clothes were filthy, she was filthy. She was sitting on a park bench with half a dozen other homeless people. It was the luckiest thing in the world. I couldn’t believe it for a second.
I didn’t see her again, even for a second after that. I swear I thought I dreamed her.
I thought seeing her- I knew by then that I didn’t know her real name, so I wouldn’t even try to find the right one- was the last of me and my right mind, so I did everything to give up on her.
So I went drinking that night- and I guess one doesn’t really ‘go drinking’ alone, one just drinks alone. But I drank alone, and felt a little worse. It was some absurd place with pretentious food and fancy chick drinks. The bartender kept pushing margaritas. I was the only black man who had ever set foot in there, and absolutely everyone knew it.
Rebecca had to come pick me up,
“Thanks, Beck.” I mumbled, finishing my third expensive chick drink. She had to carry me out to her car. “You da bomb, bro.”
“Whatever, bro.” She left the car running to drag out of the car before I puked. It was totally coming. She propped me up against the door to get into my dorm before she left.
And then I puked my guts out.

“Had a fun night?” She whispered, squatting next to me. Miley-Rose-Anastasia-bitch handed me a fistful of napkins and grimaced. I took them unhappily, laying on my side on the stone steps.

“It was the the mango juice. It’s the devil.”
“So I hear.” She sat me up.
“So you’re back?”
“For now.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means for now.”
“So do you want me to get you upstairs?”
“Please.” She dead lifted me up under my arms and brought me inside. We both almost fell off the bed, laughing. Whoever was next door banged on the wall and yelled when I knocked the lamp over with my foot.
She took my gross puke-covered shirt off of me, and I got so embarrassed I thought I would explode.
Then she threw a clean one at me and I relaxed.
“Just lay down.” I didn’t feel like arguing.
“What’s your name.”
She didn’t answer.
“Well?” I asked, staring at her. She sat at my desk and stared back.
“Don’t have one.”
“How do you not have a name?”
“I dunno. Haven’t gotten around to it, maybe. What should my name be?”
“I don’t-” I yawned, “I don’t know.”
“Alright. I’ll ask when you’re sober.”
She didn’t have to remind me again.


Ten Years And A Night

“Ten years,” I gulp, kind of dreading it myself. “I want to see you again in ten years. If we’re still miserable, we’ll be miserable together. But you should probably see if you can be happy without me first.” Dan wipes wet crap off my cheek. Shit. Then he’ll know he can be happy without me, I remind nyself. And I think that’s what I want.

He blows air out his mouth hard, “Ten’s a big number. I don’t want to wait that long. How about five?”

“Don’t try to talk me down like that. In ten years we’ll be different, everything will be different, and maybe we’ll both still be here. It’ll be okay.”

Dan whimpers, “You don’t know that, Annie. We could both be dead tomorrow. Gone. Out. No ten years. Nothing.” He says in a soft voice, a soft satin voice begging.

“I could never have you then, Annie.” He holds me soft by the waist, securing me. “So I’m gonna kiss you and you’re just going to have to deal with it. If you want me to go after, I will. I swear.”


They said crazy was
All the man was but
Devoted was
What the woman had
Doesn’t that just sound like normal fucking
Nutcase love?
Well good, because that’s all there ever really was
He was just the right place, the wrong love
She was the right words come undone
Heavy hearts, they weigh a ton
Things too bad to speak of
We just turn around
And long for that other sun
Soft sounds and foreign tongues
I’m familiar with
He said to keep my head down
Go find another crowd
They’ll take you like their own
You’re that beautiful
The right place, the wrong love
Beneath your lover’s fingertips
The same gun
And it hardly makes a sound
And the ashes all fall down

Record This #6

Well, see dear it’s

Not quite all that simple

I’m afraid all this

Holding back and

Letting go


We hurt each other

We may very well hate each other

For awhile

But we’re unfortunately not in a good state to get rid of one another

So we hold back, we do

It’s all we do

All we ever did

Why we never were in the first place

If we ever were

The Goddess

Because you say "Oh, God,"
When I'm the one praying
And why won't you dance with me?
In the street with the violins
And you know it would just please me
Every time when you leave in the morning
And I feel all painful and sore
And I feel all the slams of the doors
I know it’s too much to ask for more.
It's too much to ask for more.
Love, so why won’t you dance with me?
And you sing to all the little boys and girls
But you never sang to me
On my heartstrings you play
Every note that you fucking please
It's too much to ask for more
And yet I keep
Opening up that goddamn door.

I Think I Just Wrote Fan Fiction For My Own Book……..

Driving home from one odd job one odd Friday in traffic overlooking the Empire State, David Landon sat with his girlfriend’s head rested up against his side, his questionably-old Ford truck groaning questionably underneath his long legs.

Seriously, they were almost getting too big for the car now. Crap.

Thea Marshall was half-asleep against David’s right bicep, her pale, bony cheek against his tan, even bonier arm. He was comfortable like this. This was his resting position. And the thing with resting positions was- well, one only rested for so long. Or so little. Or something like that.

David knew that point all too well. It was the Draco’s Code of his whole life. Thea looked sleepily up at him, her crystal eyes blinking almost questioningly, then she stopped as if right, there was nothing to question. No one spoke.

This was why David didn’t really mind not resting, either. Contrary to outsider belief, it really wasn’t as bad as it seemed anymore.

Why I Don’t Read Romance By: Serena Lommasson


Being happily in love with Fran Medici wasn’t hard, and it definitely wasn’t my greatest accomplishment in life. Like finding the gold at the end of the rainbow that’s really only Lucky Charms.

But it started when she asked herself if she was really in love with ‘him’ (like I didn’t know who he was already) or in love with what she couldn’t have. I knew without having to guess that she was talking about me, the way it was I always talking about her to my roommate, to her best friend, both of whom happened to be in that café and be the same person. The question, posed half to herself and half to our group of three on a fall night in that café did not disorient me- rather made me more lucid than ever. At least I wasn’t going crazy.

                Maybe that’s why she didn’t say my name- I was too much of a defeatist. God, maybe I didn’t blame her.

                I got up and bought everyone another round of coffee that night around eleven, pretending we were studying but mostly discussing the meanings of our fairly don’t-learn-from-their-mistakes lives, if there by then lay much meaning at all anymore.

                “Here you go, Your Highness,” I handed Fran her coffee.

                “Thanks, fool,” Fran said in her soft, young Molly Ringwald voice, a cocky smile peeking up at me. I grinned uncontrollably, and she managed to wrap her hand around mine for just a moment before taking the coffee.

David said, “When I win the lottery I’m dividing it all up evenly between everyone at this table-“

Meaning me, Fran, and himself, “And you guys are taking it, no questions asked.” He said with a sense of inevitability. I’d called 911 on his retarded ass twice by then for such events really too morbid to mention; I don’t know how many hours I’d stayed up with him half-asleep lying my ass off that there’s a flickering light at the end of the tunnel until he fell asleep. I deserved it by then. I wasn’t sure about Fran, but she I’m sure had one hell of a reason herself. David wouldn’t have said that just to be generous.

                “I’ll take it, crazy-ass.” Fran nudged him in the leg, and he smiled. I just grinned, too. I could never tell who she was flirting with and who she was just being cute with. The boundary line was unclear with her. I could never tell if it bothered me or not, either. I just went back to my computer. I’d been trying to finish a book about a young couple in 1980’s DC, but it never seemed to pick up speed. I kept erasing parts, maybe because they became too familiar. I didn’t want familiar, maybe.

Maybe then I just didn’t want strange, either. It belonged in my recycle bin, really.

Fran said she’d never crack it, anyway. She didn’t read romance. Said she wanted to live it herself, not hear someone else be happy and try to be happy for them. I could see her point. Maybe I just wasn’t happy for my hero/heroine. Maybe I should’ve killed them off in the first chapter.

                “Are you guys ever worried this is as happy as you’re going to get?” Fran asked neither of us in particular a while later, her small chin set hard. I looked up immediately, and her eyes seemed to settle slightly when they met mine.

                “I hope to all hell no, not a knight in the world would stand for your unhappiness,” I shot her a grin, but she didn’t think it was as funny.

“But that’s what I stuck out today for. Just to check and see if it’ll be better this time around.” I shrugged. I’d never seen her look so childlike, all crawled up on the couch next to me like she was; I’d really never seen something more disturbing. I figured if anything I could count on Fran to be an adult, you know? Fran was the poster child of maturity. But I’d never seen her look more like she needed a hug. To crawl up into someone’s lap and hear that it’s all gonna be fine, honey. It’s all gonna be fine, love.

                “When do we give up?” She asked me beseechingly.

                “Ninety-six,” I said stolidly, and she cracked up laughing. I didn’t get it for a second. Sometimes she found humor in the oddest things- sometimes she was the oddest thing, period. It was absolutely baffling.

                “Only if somebody lives to ninety-six with me,” She said softly.

                I winced, “Seems like a long time. How ‘bout I get to ninety-five, and then you can outlive me?”

                Fran just nodded, “Sounds good to me, sweetie.” She sighed.

                It was one in the morning when we wrapped up; I had to get David home or his meds were gonna wear off and then we’d all have problems. Because I wouldn’t sleep. I was cranky when I didn’t get enough sleep.

                “Goodnight, sweetheart,” David pecked Fran on the forehead, and she just smiled brilliantly and hugged him back. Everybody loved her, I swear it was not just me. Fran hugged me harder, longer-

                “Goodnight,” Fran said to me finally, and stretched way up on her toes to kiss me on the cheek. I babbled something probably really stupid about her having really pretty eyes up close, and for the first time I saw her blush and we both went our separate ways. It just kinda failed when we both turned around to look at each other at the exact same time. I just bowed stupidly, and she laughed again.


                My cell phone buzzed about five a.m. and I opened it. It was Fran- Open your door. I didn’t wanna wake David.

I stumbled up and her dark form fell against my chest. She shuddered and I just kinda held her thin body wordlessly, stunned. Something had actually made Fran cry, which was amazing all on its own. She didn’t do much else but smile- she said it was the drugs. For some reason I never bothered to ask what that meant. It was hard to shake Fran, but when it did it came with a tsunami. So…..what now?

“It’s okay, don’t cry.” I whispered. I kissed her forehead and leaned back against the threshold, still holding her. She didn’t even come up to my shoulder. “You’re okay.” She shuddered hard and inelegantly against me, gasping. I just patted her hair awkwardly and held her there in the dorm hall. Fran was warmer than coals. I wanted to hold onto her until I died when I turned ninety-five. Sounded really good to me. Ninety-five wouldn’t be so bad. She’d be there. I’d be warm.

“Yeah, I know.” Fran wiped her red eyes. “Just feels like it. Again.” She said in frustration and squeezed me tighter, rocking against me. I grinned. It was wrong and really, really weird that I’d wanted to be there for so long, but I did. I wanted to be there, no matter the circumstances, really. I tipped her chin up and kissed her without thinking. She just held onto my hand real tight and kissed me back.

When she pulled away, I stuttered, “I-I don’t know what to say.”

 “Then just don’t say anything,” She whispered, as if she knew herself.

 “O-okay,” I breathed, holding her against me and still rocking. “Whatever you say, my queen.”