• Heidi P. commented on the post, metabolism 11 months, 1 week ago

    Eat. Eat. I gotta eat.
    I think to myself as I go about my day.
    Fold the laundry.
    Eat, please.
    I start working on the dishes.
    When I finish this, I’m going to eat something.
    I search the fridge.
    Distracted; “mommy, can you help me find…”
    When was the last time I bathed?
    Eat something. After my shower. Okay.
    Up the…[Read more]

  • Heidi P. commented on the post, footsteps 2 years, 2 months ago

    Creaking stairs. Click clacks of heels on tile floors. Sticky feet, sucking themselves into the ground. Wet footprints left behind on hot, dry concrete.

  • Heidi P. commented on the post, suspenseful 2 years, 5 months ago

    The anticipation was killing me.
    Here I am, facing what could be the scariest moment of my life.
    “Well? are you gonna go or not?”
    I shot him an annoyed look, riddled with fear.
    I can stop.
    I turned and faced my back to the open door, wind whipping my hair.
    Thirty thousand feet up sure is cold.
    I can stay here, in the cabin.
    This is a…[Read more]

  • Heidi P. commented on the post, olive 2 years, 9 months ago

    A peculiar fruit, the olive. Sold, packaged, pickled, stuffed, gutted, processed, plucked from the tree, pollinated, flowered, risen from earth. It’s grown from itself; an olive.

  • Heidi P. commented on the post, graceful 2 years, 10 months ago

    I suppose that it was the most fascinating thing about her: her absolute lack of inhibition. She wears nothing but her bare feet and a shirt four sizes too large; our living room floor has become her stage, and the Earth falls silent. I gaze upon her as she floats, gentle points of toes like kisses to the atmosphere. The hemline of her make-shift…[Read more]

  • Heidi P. commented on the post, pathway 2 years, 11 months ago

    The narrow pathway down the hall. Dark, alone, empty. Run. Run as fast as you can down it, slide on your knees and laugh by yourself. You aren’t alone in this world, you know. You always have your own company.

  • Heidi P. commented on the post, entitled 4 years, 9 months ago

    You come into this world, believing that you are entitled to certain things. Things like food, shelter, a parent’s love. It’s a sad day when you know that there are millions of people out there, suffering without them.

  • Heidi P. commented on the post, watchtower 4 years, 11 months ago

    The ordinary pigeon, perched at the highest point of the city, watching. He could fly away, but that would be too simple. Someone has to keep this city safe.

  • Heidi P. commented on the post, cake 4 years, 11 months ago

    You can’t have your cake and eat it too, they say. You cant have both happiness and satisfaction. I say find your happiness, enjoy your satisfaction, and share it with the world. There is no reason for the world not to have a little piece of your cake.

  • Heidi P. commented on the post, sly 4 years, 11 months ago

    Slick and sly, right, by your eyes. Your eyes. Tender brown with shock spots full of moss. I can not flicker past the sparks in your sockets. You always see right through me.

  • Heidi P. commented on the post, adapted 4 years, 11 months ago

    Tumbling, stumbling, rising from ashes. This place we used to call home, our cash hidden in the walls, the things in our lives that looked like they mattered, we’re breathing them in now with the rest of the soot.

  • Heidi P. commented on the post, desolation 4 years, 12 months ago

    Desolation, desolation is the game. Emptiness. What are we even doing here? Can’t we all just get away? Desperation, desperation just the same. Scratch at the walls long enough and your fingers will surely bleed.

  • Heidi P. commented on the post, crystal 4 years, 12 months ago

    I heard the tinkle of the chandelier swinging behind me and glanced over my shoulder to steal a peek. Weird, there aren’t normally earth quakes where we live. I straightened my head and paced down the pews to my groom, waiting with sweaty palms. And that was when it hit.

  • Heidi P. commented on the post, framework 5 years ago

    the photos of us, all dusty and gray, sit in their boxes, waiting to be unpacked. Will this be our home? They ask. Is this where we will stay? The kids in their frames inquire about what it will require in order to have a home that is permanent, forever, lasting.

  • Heidi P. commented on the post, severe 5 years ago

    The ache in my soul used to bring me nothing but pain. The constant throb of the permanent wounds used to rip my love to shreds. But eventually, eventually, I learned to dance to the rhythm. It taught me to feel alive.

  • Heidi P. commented on the post, temple 5 years ago

    A haven. A place I can go to every time I need a chance to breathe. A place with endless comfort, solace. A place I hide, and I don’t have to fear being judged or frowned upon. A place in between my two temples.

  • Heidi P. commented on the post, wilderness 5 years ago

    I step out of my front door and smell the pine trees around me. Spring is nearly here now, and the air is crisp. Tense, almost. As if it is impatiently waiting for the Earth to, again, come alive.

  • Heidi P. commented on the post, airport 5 years ago

    Time for me to get the hell out of here. I’m finally doing it, I’m finally going to be free! Time to stretch my wings and stop giving any thought about anything except for what’s ahead of me. Where this road will take me, I don’t know, but lord knows it’ll be beautiful.

  • Heidi P. commented on the post, fought 5 years ago

    I fought and struggled to free myself. Oh, to be released from the chains that bound me to the ground, like roots that were no longer nourishing my bones! I ripped and roared against the heavy shackles that were forcing me to stay, trying to pull myself together while pulling myself away.

  • Heidi P. commented on the post, miraculous 5 years ago

    The beauty in which the world lies, the wonders (at which) the world sighs, the souls of soldiers’ buried cries, a bleeding man who slowly dies, you’ll watch the sparks fade from the enemy’s eyes, because, (after all) the world’s beauty, it lies.