Comments Posted By sara

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The mound of ice cream melted and trickled down the sides of the cone until my fingers where sticky.

» Posted By Sara On 05.30.2018 @ 8:21 am


me. overly sensitive is my flaw. I take everything too seriously, he says. I wish I didn’t feel as much as I do.

» Posted By Sara On 01.24.2018 @ 9:03 pm


It’s 5:14 p.m. as I pull in my drive-way, and I’m dog-tired from a day of teaching teenagers Elements of Literature and other necessary life skills. He’s slept all day, waiting for me to push open the door to our 748 square foot home.
He doesn’t drink water while I’m gone. So, between excited jumps, he chugs water, then trails back to me in staccato movements, leaving a minefield of puddles on the floor. “Hey, buddy!” Still juggling my coffee thermos and re-usable grocery bag of ungraded papers, I push him out the door before there are more kinds of puddles on our floor. I pull off my shoes, turn up the heat, set down my things, and breathe in this silence; a break between adolescent chatter and the frantic clicking of Dillard’s feet on tile as he follows me around the house all evening. I relax a bit more as the furnace pushes air through the vents like a steady rain and replaces the hum of fluorescent lights.

» Posted By sara On 10.23.2017 @ 8:05 pm


points on the scoreboard. time is running out.
there is never enough time.
i am never enough.
sneakers on the floorboards. my feet are sore.
my lungs are screaming
and, swish!
now like my lungs, my team is screaming
shouts bleeding from their mouths
arms reaching for me
points on the scoreboard. i was enough this time.

» Posted By sara On 07.12.2017 @ 5:28 pm


The needle pierced my skin, and I can’t remember it hurting at all. It probably did. They usually do, don’t they? Hard to remember, almost impossible to. But in the end it doesn’t matter. Hurt, doesn’t hurt. Fuck it. All the same.

» Posted By Sara On 07.03.2017 @ 8:44 pm


She never took selfies, and in my opinion, that was the biggest crime against humanity right there. “I don’t see the point,” she’d argue. “Everyone already knows what I look like, why should I take pictures to emphasize the fact.”
“Because your face can never be emphasized enough,” is what I didn’t say.

» Posted By Sara On 12.29.2016 @ 8:20 am


What a sport.
I started it as a joke, because out of all the sports for a girl of only 5 ft 2 to start, boxing definitely isn’t one that comes to mind. Or basketball. But I sucked at basketball. So I turned to boxing.

» Posted By Sara On 12.27.2016 @ 12:09 pm


The others stare at us blankly.
I love them, but that’s all they’ll ever be: others.
It’s only about us two, you and me, darling, staring at each other like we want to kill each. Is that homicidal intent behind your beautiful, beautiful eyes? I can’t tell, and I’m fairly certain I never will.

» Posted By Sara On 12.26.2016 @ 7:27 am


Yep, that’s pretty appropriate.
She thinks it’s a joke, that I’m just someone who enjoys teasing lightly. Making jokes. Persistently.
If only she knew what the persistence was rooted in. Not in being irritating, that, sweetie, I just can’t help. Nope, that’s not what I’m persistent. Sorry if you missed that.

» Posted By Sara On 12.20.2016 @ 8:57 am


There’s so much I could do with “compass.” But right now, I am completely lacking direction. Any type of direction. Words are coming out like sludge, goopy, incoherent sludge, and I am totally lacking direction. Unfortunately, unless I were to make it this whole symbolic thing, which I can’t right now, no compass is gonna help me tonight.

» Posted By Sara On 12.18.2016 @ 8:19 pm


Her favorite book was an atlas because she thought it held all the answers. Every single one, can you imagine that? “A little bit of everything! And maps, so many maps!” she used to exclaim to her family and friends. The family nodded in false encouragement. The friends weren’t friends at all. It was only a matter of time before she learned that the atlas did not, in fact, hold all the answers. And that was when she put down the atlas and picked up a flag.

» Posted By Sara On 12.17.2016 @ 8:08 am


The lease was signed on April 1st, and ooh boy do I wish it had been a joke.
It wasn’t though. It was never a joke, and the reality of that slammed me as the realtor stared into me head on, like a truck driver willing me to move out of her way. Her smile was fake, didn’t reach her eyes, so fake, but the lease wasn’t.

» Posted By Sara On 12.16.2016 @ 2:28 pm


How do you define spoiled exactly?
Materially spoiled? Those are the easiest ones to complain about.
Emotionally spoiled? Yeah, those are the ones you really can’t help hating.

» Posted By Sara On 12.15.2016 @ 6:51 pm


It went off like an airbag.
One minute, I’m sitting, absolutely fine. It’s a normal day. Always a normal day.
Then the next minute, it isn’t. It went off. like a firecracker breaking the sky into two. like a siren screaming to be understood, to be validated. Like an airbag telling me that there’s been a terrible fucking accident.

» Posted By Sara On 12.14.2016 @ 7:55 pm


The street is lit only by the moon.
How cliche, really, but what can I do? I can’t make a streetlight appear. And how much better is that really? A lone person standing under a streetlight? Even worse.
So I walk down a street lit only by the moon.
My thoughts my lone companion.

» Posted By Sara On 12.13.2016 @ 8:29 am


They say mermaids swim in the depth and consume the bodies, sometimes even the souls, of the sailors they encounter. They say that a mermaid’s nails will pierce your heart like you’re butter, and her teeth with break skin faster than a wave can.
I’d rather encounter a thousand mermaids than encounter you.

» Posted By Sara On 12.12.2016 @ 8:28 am


The word fell off her lips, effortlessly, like a prayer.
How strange it is to hear an atheist pray.
Everyone, I remind myself, she calls everyone “sweetheart.”
But even in my hesitation, I knew it was different. This was different. So very different.

» Posted By Sara On 12.11.2016 @ 12:53 pm

The word is like a prayer on her lips.
God, is it strange to hear an atheist pray.
I try not to read into it. She calls everyone sweetheart. But it’s not like this. There’s no denying that it’s not like this.

» Posted By Sara On 12.11.2016 @ 12:36 pm


Grieving and immature.


Growth and implosion.

» Posted By Sara On 10.17.2016 @ 8:21 am


I love the evenings when we cook together. In our kitchen with our aprons on. Music in the background while we dance around the kitchen. Over cooking or under seasoning, all the while getting lost in our time together.

» Posted By Sara On 09.20.2016 @ 1:01 pm


painter. ha!
sitting here with a brush and canvas –
trying to draw the fire pit before me.
knowing i can’t.
knowing how my self-sabotaging pity won’t let me
won’t let me see the world
the way a painter can.

» Posted By Sara On 08.24.2016 @ 8:35 am


Looking to move, but locked down tight
In this prison called Applicant.
Locked, here in this town
Away from home
Lakes. Tamaracks. Trout steams.
Not qualified. No experience.
“You must have experience.”
Bachelor’s degree becomes scratch paper.
Over-educated, Over-My-Head.
Entry-Level-Position? Over-My-Dead-Body.
Locking down the portafilter
over the sound of classical piano.

» Posted By Sara On 08.17.2016 @ 8:18 am


collectuign dreams, memories. they have been collecting everything you do since the day of birth. its kind of a drag when you do something embarrassing or cringy, because they give you theyre forms that they’ve been watching you with at the end of the day.

» Posted By Sara On 08.11.2016 @ 6:42 pm


“silence do good. the silence will fall”, he said as he turned to me slowly. “what does that even mean”, i asked. “Only when silence fall we will be able to hear the things that truly matter”, he said. “Things like what?” “We won’t know until there’s silence”

» Posted By Sara On 07.14.2016 @ 7:47 am


The screens mostly blocked my view of her. Just a curl of hair, the corner of her smile, her lace-clad shoulder, were revealed through the gap between the panels. I tried unobtrusively to gain her attention.

» Posted By Sara On 06.28.2016 @ 7:57 pm


Her sleeves were too long so she pushed them back up to her elbows. They really did get in the way, but the cold rain was too much to go with just the tank top she had underneath. Her fingers curved around the bow as she stalked carefully through the trees around her. Some birds chirped overhead, and she briefly turned to look.

She didn’t really know why though. She didn’t know shit about birds.

» Posted By Sara On 06.01.2016 @ 2:22 pm


It’s a vehicle that is similar to a motorcycle but for calmer people and it is less dangerous. It is also a toy for kids that is pushed by the Kid’s foot.

» Posted By Sara On 05.07.2016 @ 6:51 am


chinese, japanese, food. I love chopsticks. Though I wonder how they came to be. And why do people put them in their hair? That is also an odd aspect of them. They’re also used in burrial ceremonies…Wow, chopsticks are actually quite a broad subject, I’m overwhelmed now.

» Posted By Sara On 05.05.2016 @ 4:16 am


When I was in my prime, I lay around and wallowed in hesitation. I put off my priorities till later, much later, when I hoped to be braver/stronger/cleverer/more of a leader. Now, today, I am older and regret.

» Posted By Sara On 04.27.2016 @ 2:56 pm


Under attack from all sides, she decided to renounce her position and take up a secluded life in the middle of the forest. Little did she know that there would soon be accusations of witchcraft leveled against her in addition to all the others.

» Posted By Sara On 04.10.2016 @ 7:56 pm

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