Tag: relationship
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What Stays
The house didn’t fallwhen they left.The kettle still boils,the dog still waitsfor your voice in the morning. Time to forgetthe way you bent to fitwhat was never built for you. The sky hasn’t stoppedits slow turning.Magpies still sing.You breathe.Something holds. This isn’t the end.It never is.The right onewon’t ask you to shrink.What stayswill staywithout being…
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Falling Up
You will never fall in love with me. Don’t try to convince me That I will always wait for you. If you really look, you’ll see I’m not here for the long haul Don’t imagine You give me reason to stay. When things get hard I’ll leave – Don’t imagine I’m not like the others,…
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Unburied Hatchet
Until I saw those wasted hands, brittle as chalk, I hadn’t thought how fast the years make ghosts. I heard them once called brawler’s paws. For me, they were always more: cobras, poised to strike. But his brawling days are gone now; I could kill him with a pillow, if I cared enough to try.…
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Pulling Back the Sheet
It started as a scribble in my yearbook and ended with an apology, of sorts: I wish I’d been more, held your hand when it mattered and even when it didn’t. Ink lasts longer than schoolyard dreams, wilted before their bloom. Notes we wrote lend breath to ghosts, long after pens fall still. In this…
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Days
Sometimes she’s wildfire, burning through the night; some days she’s a winter storm, ice and fury unleashed. Sometimes she’s a shadow, neither fully here or really there; some days she’s untamable, wild as rolling seas. Sometimes I hold her close, as the world starts coming undone; some days we fit together and I feel that…
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The Weight
One drunken night, he lay on the coach road and she lay beside him. He pictured a truck descending–wobbling around corners, gaining momentum. They spoke about crushes, first kisses. He told her of an older woman who’d stolen a thing he couldn’t replace. He tried to describe the weight of lost things. She listened until…
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Irish Fire
My grandmother called it Irish fire, said it raged through my father hotter than Beli Mawr’s bum. She was long dead when it finally flared fiercer than he could contain. The embers of his eyes scorched childhood’s last leaves to ash, left them smoldering. Ryan Stone
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Like Grass
I’ll bend, you know. Each time you kick or stomp me underfoot. Though sustenance is rare as winter sun, I’ll thrive, you know and grow to cover every corner of the meadow where you lie. I’ll rise, you know. Rise and rise– I’ll rise. Ryan Stone
