ArchiveOctober 2012

The Quilt


I feel bad for those who pretend, those who exaggerate. In general, I feel bad for liars. You portray a facade to your friends during the day, and come home to face the truth. Your home is no longer a humble abode, it’s an orifice crowded with facts: stored, locked, stacked in corners. How can you live with yourself? You weave white lies into nooses to hang any hiccup in your recent tale...

Friends are for Catching, not Falling


I remember when Tuesdays meant more than Tuesday. You worked around my schedule; I waited on yours. I’d sleep through mornings, roll out at noon: six hours before you called. Homework was hard. Tuesdays I did labs. I recalled formulas to your laugh, mixtures to hugs, chemical imbalances for kisses (on the cheek). I would finish my work quickly, in hopes you’d call sooner but, you were...