A Place For Writing

filled with prose and poetry

[avcwriting]

We could go into the cold and no one has to ever know We could walk in the night, traveling on brittle ice I’ve got jackets, beanies, and scarves but we wouldn’t know warmth if it didn’t cling onto our hands

[avcwriting]

When we get in his car his hands touch the music before he touches the wheel. He plays the first song on his mind. Real and sincere, I know he sets the mood. I know he wants me to feel what he feels. So I sit quiet and soak in the sound. At times, I can hear his excitement and at times, I can hear his fear. I can hear his sadness, I can hear his tears. Times where words can’t fill the space, he fills the atmosphere with his speakers. In quiet, I offer my consolation--being present in his drive. Being present as he rides through these emotions, communicating through the words and waves of another he has chosen. I am there and I can hear. I may not know all of his tunes, but I can hear his songs.

[avcwriting]

I ride down a road where anger wraps like a fog and passage in the dead of night requires light that is spurned by its spread Should I kill this lantern of mine would I be on a path to blind or be blinded

[avcwriting]

Lost you and me and a car ride going nowhere It’s late at night and we take a stop I can’t see but the lights still beam You hold my hand and don’t mean it Stuck in a mistake with me and still don’t mean it Run from home but find home with me and we’ll still run as long this car still runs we’ll still run as long as this car still runs Lost you and me and a car ride going nowhere And I’m lost with someone who’s lost with me

[avcwriting]

Sometimes you forget How it feels to fall When you've been at the bottom for so long

[avcwriting]

I started a new box with you today And the first thing that sits in it is a postcard telling me how I would have loved to see the view And I’m ready to fill it with even more

[avcwriting]

Sometimes I wonder what dreams run through your beautiful mind I think I can feel them in the gentleness of your breath when you rest your head beside me

[avcwriting]

And you held onto me, listening to the words and rhythm of the aching of this indiscernible relationship playing in the background, hands gripped onto the body you knew you were guilty of poisoning a mind with one-sided thoughts of a happy ending with and I was hunched over, hiding eyes while you squeezed tightly until the dreams of a future we couldn’t see came out into something only I could call closure.

[avcwriting]

She's out Roaming around Between bodies All day But it's you She always returns to At the end of the night

[avcwriting]

I love how shorts hug at your hips like how arms could be if I were laying my head over your heart

[avcwriting]

I hate that I stop to make time for you in the chance that you might have some for me when in most cases, I know you never will

[avcwriting]

When I am brooding, I am a stormy tempest, clouds furrowing my brows and poised above shoulder blades There is thunder in my eyes and a whirlwind raging inside me And there will be monsoons after the hurricane.

[avcwriting]

Can I hang out with you and all the other boys that want you?

[avcwriting]

And I know that you are bad for me because I crave the candid comfort that comes when we wrestle with confused emotions beneath crumpled sheets, but at the end of our sessions you leave my home with a bed that is tidy and a hug that grips me tightly with security I am tied and tilted because I can feel the conviction you offer me through the signal of your movements And I can feel you care for me through the connections of the air as you make your soft approach, hands held with kisses to the forehead, yet you let the slimmer of words that you cannot feel and that you are no longer good enough be the denial that confounds the affection that you truly show And when it comes to the abyss that is feeling, your presence, it makes me feel so whole but in your absence, this ordeal makes me feel ever so more alone

[fantodsdhrit]

warmth

i let her stay in bloom—she prefers gloom; broke her tea set, she keeps my cup as a souvenir, gives me her peach tree, i rest between her carmine thighs; i miss her birthday initiation, when i call her she asks me to talk in morse code, i swear on her protruding spine; i spend the summer with her in a bathtub, separating wildflowers from pearls—her tears dissolve on my chest when we finish; six days in her room feel like a celestial continuance.

[avcwriting]

I’m sure you were surprised to find that the closer we came to the light the more you came to see the bullet that was lodged inside

[avcwriting]

There’s something sweet about being two stupidly depressed people Talking day and night about the sad stuff we’ve been through: heartbreak  and other sappy misfortunes I think I like you. And even though you tell me you can’t feel anything, maybe I’m naive for thinking this is the perfect opportunity to feel again.