Art from the Middle Distance
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My creations, for you.
Stories (6)
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It's not that deep
it’s not that deep you tell your classmates when they point out your sour mood. but it is that deep. the kind of gut wrenching deep that you feel when your parents said, “We need to talk.” the kind of dizzying deep you felt when your mom, tears and snot streaming down her throat, couldn't choke the words out so your dad, stoic, spat it out: “Your sister’s boyfriend crashed the subaru. He was drunk.” the kind of deep dark circles under their eyes. the kind of deep silence and all at once you know she’s gone. the kind of deep that you feel when you need therapy but your parents can’t afford it so you hold the tears in, but, like vomit, they find their way out in the middle of the night. “How did you manage to get it on the pillow, comforter, and the carpet?”
By Art from the Middle Distance2 years ago in Poets
old flames
my heating pad is my longest relationship; dating, for the disabled, is a futile exercise she is blue, the kind of blue that could be a baby's blue but to you it feels different. it isn't the blue of the sky, or the blue of the sea, it's the blue of health insurance receipts, of physical therapy.
By Art from the Middle Distance2 years ago in Poets
