doubledown

A poem.


when i shut my eyes at night
and allow my mind to wander,
sometimes
if the mood is right
i can still make out the space between his eyes,
their shape
their size
hes all but forgotten, otherwise.
the fleeting moments of love still remain
but theres nothing else to gain
by recalling his frame and the bones in his waist.
ive willed myself to forget his lips,
but their smokey taste still sits.
the way he ignored me through sleepless nights
the fights
the light that grew in his solitude
the tears that drew in his bleakest gloom.

the bedroom is an empty void with a new lover by my side.
but yours is the ghost that looms,
so in the earliest mornings when i wake and see his face,
if he looks back too
through the haze i see you.

//jf 5.6.2020


 

susanna

A short story for mature readers.

“Despite nature working against him, a stepfather learns to take responsibility for his new daughter.”

the stepfather didnt assume anything the day his girlfriend told him that she had a two year old daughter. that was fifteen years ago. things were different. he wasnt bombarded by calls to shelter youth the way he is now, by the government and other parents. people are scared. and in many ways the stepfather agrees with them. modern life is a breeding ground for deviants. he wonders if he would have the same opinion if he had walked away, during the date at the restaurant where she told him. he liked lucille. the night of the fifth date they finally had sex after fooling around as far as a young couple could without performing the act itself. he couldnt wait to see her the next night, but sitting down at the table with her already waiting for him felt eagerly pessimistic. she told him about her daughter. who was the father? she told him that too. he could tell she was nervous, the way she held him tight with one hand and collected herself with the napkin she held in the other. when the dinner was over they hugged it out and went to a movie. it was too early to go home. what if he said no? then he would still be in his forties now, still trying to reconcile the missing pieces of his own adolescence. but he would be single. and he wouldnt have susanna. by all accounts he is her stepfather. and try as he may to do the best that he can, she is seventeen now and it is almost too late. evenings spent just the two of them kindling their bond were only embers. he is okay with that. she isnt his kid, as much as he feels like she is. there is still a beacon that goes off inside him any time he wants to question that blossoming independence. maybe he should have been harder on her? more of a disciplinarian? lucy couldnt handle that. no, he decided to leave most of the parenting to her. he just had to. lucy had problems of her own. has. she has to be his primary responsibility, and susanna hers.

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olivia

A micro-story for mature readers.


coffee weed and fucking the perfect day. the dream. my dream not everyones we all have different dreams. i dont dream much anymore but when i do its the same dreams ive always had. im somewhere remote, somewhere beautiful, and im driving. i know where im going and i can never get there fast enough. then i find out im not going anywhere, that im running. and i dont see who im running from but its someone in another car and they are always one step behind me. but i dont see them. so do i really know who im running from? maybe im running from myself. it always felt like a doppelganger, knowing my every move like that even on some of the lower roads ive driven on, still drive on twenty years later while my body sleeps. one time i dreamt that my father left me. that he disappeared in to thin air and i had to go looking for him. i travelled the world in a gyrocopter with two bumbling midget sidekicks like a live action disney movie from the eighties and it was all to find him. but he left me. just like i got used to everyone leaving me. running from everybody. sheltered. but i knew what i needed. if i could just have another joint another cup of coffee, with the special creamer, get my dick sucked while i played video games it would all be okay. but i never had enough not even when it should have been enough i needed more, no weed id have a pot of coffee no coffee no weed i would lock myself in my room and masturbate all day, watching the same videos id seen a million times before. had to stay in my comfort zone even when watching porn. i love watching porn but i dont watch it anymore or else im not sharp for olivia.

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take me back

A poem.


“human beings make mistakes!
‘he cried,
‘the climax to a long and troubled talk.
‘he couldnt keep it bottled in anymore.
‘what was it he said?
‘why was she so defensive?
“we all make mistakes!
“you most of all should understand that!

“you always go and do that
“what?
“make me think that you’ve changed when you haven’t.
‘you’re still the same self-righteous asshole
‘that you were at the start of the night.

“but who is he?
“who?
“this guy that you’re seeing? he’s just a friend right?
“yes i told you
“then why are you making such a big deal about it?
“i’m not i just don’t want to talk about it.

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