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Ariel

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

4 poems·Since May 2013
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Cathexis

May 30, 2013
My stomach clenches as I hear your fist warp the banister, sweaty fingers slide from the flaking painted-over rust, feet thudding like mismatched first steps, redundantly walking up when you’re already quite far enough into the clouds. Tension relaxes the doorknob is left unscathed the lights flick off, and I am comforted to know that when your eyes are closed I can at least pretend I know you again.
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