Repository

Autobiographical in many ways. It's been forever since I posted here. So, um, there you go.

What you gave to be rid of a certain presence― the bruising of light, of fingers caressing  a ring I thought I'd lost to the sea at Ahipara  when only sixteen, more alive and virtuous  to the change of colour in the sky  from pearlescent green to moody amber  and soft sand stuck in between. How often I thought I knew of pretensions  behind another's eyes―the slow, stuttering drawl  of a boy who thinks he owns the world  when gifted with a labyrinth of travel  away from all that hurts: the father  with another wife, the mother who only knows  of hardship and strife, the sister who has to  grow up without a brother to truly look out for her.  Mindless, you say, what regard for years  of wasted visions, too caught in webs where  the answers are always a mix of mercurial  and disillusioned? There is life, but only  in the wind which whips your hair about― in the dusky sheen of a sunset  afraid to truly fade out.

Reviews

[Raef C. Boylan]

If your work makes another writer envious, you're doing something right. I'm extremely envious of your gift, demonstrated here, with heavy yet fine-tuned description; so much detail here but my mind didn't falter because you weighed up each line and laid it down with confidence. As w.k.k says, exceptional language use throughout. I liked the tone of this piece: wise and yet very human.
Thanks for sharing it with us.

[Hedra Helix]

this is like putting your finger on it and going "there"

the slow, stuttering drawl
of a boy who thinks he owns the world
when gifted with a labyrinth of travel
away from all that hurts

I met this guy last week walking through town and he made me want to leave and do the same, He cared about nothing, was untouchable.

[*~Kristy~*]

This is beautiful. It left me speechless...

[W.k.kortas]

The use of language here is simply exceptional; change the setting ever so slightly, and you could tuck this in the middle of Masters' Spoon River Anthology and no one would notice--and any comparison to Masters should be taken as high praise.

[Emily B]

you are really much older than your age . . .

wonderful work to read