I have no right to feel your absence this deeply, to expect your words at a certain time every day, to expect them to brighten me. I never had any claim to you. I just hoped I did. I shouldn’t have let my heart speak. My heart has never said anything that I didn’t regret eventually. I miss talking in a way that’s not feet on broken glass.
We were waiting in line to go on a water slide when he first told me he wanted to marry me. We’d been in the water for hours, wrinkly like we’d been together for sixty-five years. His eyes were wide as my bikini clung to my skin, like he hadn’t seen me in much less before, when he said those words: “I’m going to marry you someday.” I wanted to run away so fast...
As you can see, for my post today, I wrote a little play. I didn’t know how else to post it except in screenshots. If you’re interested, the read more link below will whisk you away to the rest of it. (It’s really short, promise.) [[MORE]]
A cross hangs on the wall, right between the line of blow-up Letter People and a bulletin board full of finger paintings. A man hangs there, blood blowing from his hands, caked into his hair. I’m surprised the same people who banned books in the library asked for this to be hung here. It could be traumatizing for a kindergartner, but we’ve all grown up around bodies like these, and no...
You always loved the stars. The night we fell in love, You wooed my by naming those pinpricks in the sky, Pointing out pictures of warriors and animals and lovers. Your eyes were so excited and you looked so happy, I pretended I could see them too.
I had a mental breakdown while working retail today. My insides crashed like timpani drums, my fingernails dug into the counter. I couldn’t count change to save my life. But outside, I was smiling, telling people, “I’m good; how are you?” My smile barely faltered. Maybe that’s strength, or maybe it’s cowardly to exude that much insincerity. I’m not sure. ...
You tell me that you’ve never been in love, not really, and I feel an overwhelming sadness for you that makes me want to take you into my arms and kiss you until you can’t breathe, to bring you to an Italian restaurant and refuse to let you pay the check, to write you poems and songs and letters. I want to make you fall in love with me, just so you could feel the warmth it brings. But...
It takes about three and a half hours to get to Chicago by car, if traffic is good and you can manage to avoid too many stops. I had planned on us getting there around 6:30 after adding in some cushion, and had even made a dinner reservation. However, I soon realized: Dee was a stopper, and I wasn’t very good at saying no to her. In the first hundred miles, we’d somehow managed to stop four...
why should i be brave when it only makes me smaller. why should i offer people the ventricles in my heart if they’ll only mar them to pieces. i can’t take much more of this.
you light me up like a string of christmas lights on the winter solstice. and sometimes when you smile, i see spots behind my eyes, like i’ve been staring at the sun. i can’t help but fear that i’ll hurt you, that i’ll dim those bulbs in your eyes, but they’re what i see by. they’re what keep me from losing myself in the dark. and i would do anything to bask...
I never believed in ghosts until I met him, until he showed me the way the pantry door opened by itself, the orbs he insisted I’d missed because I’d chosen the wrong moment to blink. I suppose I didn’t believe in them, but I humored him, and that’s almost the same thing. If he thought there was a spirit about, he would call out, asking its name like an old friend. I would...
We were once the aurora borealis, Shimmering above the night sky, Our bodies intermingling, our colors blending. You were the purples, I was the oranges, And together, we made fire. But you took the purples away, The flames too hot and the tundra too cold, Too much all at once. Without you I only burn, Obliterating everything I touch. I need someone to slow me to embers. I thought we were the...
you don’t believe that i have baggage, because i don’t wheel it behind me, opening it up and handing out bits like party favors. i hide mine close to my person, secured with zipper after zipper. if i let it free, i imagine it would consume the entire room, and would never fit back inside, and you’ll never get it all off your walls, or off your mind or out of your hair. you...
M(art)ch Madness Writing Project
This March, I’ve decided to post a new piece of writing here every day. I’ve been wanting to do something like this for a long time, and I’m excited to be sharing more writing with you lovely people! My wonderful and talented friends Nadia and Patty are joining me in this endeavor as well, and you should check out their blogs. And if you’re feeling up to the challenge and...
your signals are mixed, like vodka and water, and though it doesn’t go down easy, i sip the cocktail nonetheless.
a birthday gift
i feel our potential energy in my bones. you are a hypnic jerk, a falling sensation. you are the paint i use to plaster on a smile, and the reason i don’t always need it. pull the parts i hide from my chest, hold them in your palms, and tell me you are home.
A thousand layers come between us, And no matter how many hours I spend peeling them off, You’re always bundled up again in the morning. You tell me you need retouching, Blurring yourself so profoundly That I don’t always recognize you in a crowd. Your saturation is high, beaming reds and yellows, Your curves to die for, But you can’t see it, even when it’s magnified. I wish I could erase your...
caffeine is a drug.
You are chocolate-covered espresso beans, And pages read by flashlight in the middle of the night. On some days, we’re Lucky Charms marshmallows, Bass beating in your chest cavity at a rock concert. But sometimes we’re the smell of wet paint, The feeling in your feet before you fall down the stairs, The interminable pod race in Phantom Menace. And that’s okay. You tell me that without drops, A...
New Year's Resolutions: 2013 Edition
Read 100 books. Review at least 20 of those books on Goodreads. Watch at least the first three Star Trek generations. Go on at least five trips, no matter how small. Post at least 20 times on my writing Tumblr. Get published three times in legit publications. Write a spec script. Write and release a wizard rock album with Patty. Maintain at least a 3.7 GPA. Finish Ewoks, Homosexual...
(Photo by my super talented friend Ella.) I remember when Adeline was still here, when her house smelled of saltwater taffy and the leather of her riding saddle. Her hair, more raspberry blonde than strawberry, whipped through the wind as she stood at the top of the hill we loved to climb in mid-July, when it was covered in little blue flowers. We’d stay up there all day and fall asleep...
Plan of Attack
It’s so cold outside that I can see my breath. I raise my face towards the sky, letting out all of the air in my lungs, pretending I’m a dragon or a chain smoker. I’ve been outside for probably a little over an hour. Maybe soon they’d let us inside, where I’d at least have some artificial light to keep me company. I hear someone say “hey,” but assume it isn’t addressed to me until I feel a single...
Anonymous asked: I love how honest you are in your writing. I can especially relate to feeling ashamed of not being sophisticated enough for others. I've struggled with that for a lot of my life. You seem like such a sincere and confident person. Hearing your experience is so encouraging, and I'd love to be Tumblr friends with you :)
The Weapon We Have Is Doritos
Our fingertips are caked with powdered nacho cheese as we pile on sixth floor lobby’s couches, still wearing dresses from the ball. Too tired to keep dancing but too excited to sleep, we wait limbo, eating snacks and trying not to count the hours until we have to go home again. Exhausted witches and wizards trickle out of the elevators in various states of inebriation, and as they walk past, we...
I bought myself a locket today, In a fit of romance and whimsy. I got carried away in imagining, On kisses blown over Skype calls And tear-stained reunions And containing the missing you In a little pendant around my neck. I bought it because I could see your face inside it. It’s rather sad, really.
Brave Review (no spoilers)
The stakes are high for Pixar’s new movie Brave. After Cars 2 didn’t even make back its budget, another lackluster film could mean disaster, and would certainly start critics pondering whether the studio already hit its peak. Also, Brave features Pixar’s first female protagonist, and in a princess movie, no less. From the film’s marketing campaign, it’s obvious that...
Snow White and the Huntsman Review (no spoilers)
When I saw the promotional stills and posters for Snow White and the Hunstman, I was cautiously optimistic. Given the recent trend towards strong female protagonists and princesses, I thought we were bound to get an awesome retelling of the fairy tale, with a sassy Snow White who kicks major ass. Unfortunately, this is far from the case; if you’re coming to Snow White and the Huntsman...
FANCY writing is not confusing and obscure. Good writing is clear. There’s often...– Maureen Johnson (via nerdhugger) One of the best pieces of writing advice I’ve heard in a long time. I had to share.
Your eyes are brimming with life, Your skies always blue and rarely ever cloudy. I’m drawn to you, Not becaue of your eyes or your sunny disposition, But because I’m genuninely curious How much it would take to make you like the rest of us, How many curse words and taken-back I love you’s It would take to break you, To take the life from your eyes.
She looked at me with those warm brown eyes, the color of hot chocolate when I dump in five or six scoops of powder instead of two. Her lips quivered, the way they did she was cold, or in this case, lonely. They probably no longer tasted like her cinnamon lip gloss, but like vodka and menthol cigarette smoke and the saliva of another boy, and when I thought of her tasting like that, I couldn’t...
New Year's Resolutions: 2012 Edition
Read 100 books. That’s right. 100. Review all of those books on Goodreads, except the textbooks and stuff. Get a job, preferably one at home and one at school. Finish Doctor Who. Watch at least the first three Star Trek generations. If you finish them all, you’re a fucking badass. Write, record and sell another album with Patty, probably the wizard rock one. Get 400 followers...
2011 New Year's Resolutions Revisited
Read 100 books. That’s right. 100. (This didn’t happen, but I did read 72, which is quite a few in and of itself.) Go on a road trip. (Nashville!) Don’t date anymore slackers/asshats. (Granted, I didn’t date anyone, but baby steps, I suppose.) Get into an awesomely fantastic college that you’ll love. (Emerson?) (Got into every college I applied to, and did end up going to...
Fic: Ewoks, Homosexual Stimulation, and Captain...
Title: Ewoks, Homosexual Stimulation, and Captain Picard Fandoms: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Dollhouse Rating: M Pairing(s)/Character(s): Topher Brink/Andrew Wells Summary: Topher Brink and Andrew Wells meet at Comic-Con, and sparks begin to fly. Andrew’s totally smitten, but Topher refuses to accept that he’s not straight. Will Andrew be able to get Topher to open up before they ...
I like food too much to be anorexic, And hate throwing up too much to be bulimic. So I’ll go half of the day without eating, Then stuff my face with Snow Caps and Doritos And continue my toxic relationship with food.
Introspection and Airplanes
I’ve always been a bit of a nervous flyer, the little girl who spent her whole flight chewing the cinnamon gum her mom gave her to keep her ears from popping. She would stroke my hair and put a finger to my lips when I asked her how high up we were or why our seat cushions even needed to be floatation devices. It wasn’t that I was an irrational child. I was just aware of my abysmal luck, even at...
I always feel a little bit weird about celebrating Thanksgiving, The day when the pilgrims and Indians became friends, Only for the first to betray the latter. It reminds me of throwing a party on the birthday of Benedict Arnold, Or celebrating the day Magneto turned against Professor X. Plus, I don’t eat turkey, so there are no turkey endorphins to make me feel better about it. But, no...
You didn’t die, but it sure felt like you did, When you started breaking yourself And wearing eyeliner that looked like It’d been put on with permanent marker. One day at lunch, you let us peek Into your backpack to see the bong you’d received. And when your eyes lit up brighter than I’d ever seen them before, I knew I’d lost you. You had huge dreams, of falling in...
haikus for strangers ii
NaNoWriMo background And John Green quote on laptop Let’s write together
haikus for strangers i
Orange shirt, red shoes Worn at a hipster college Clashed adorably
Haikus for Strangers Project Announcement
Crushes on strangers Love poems are too creepy Will write them haikus I had this idea after trying to write a poem for a boy I admire from afar. Writing a long, love poem type deal felt borderline stalker-ish, but I was inspired by this one thing in particular about him and didn’t want to let it go. I realized that writing three lines felt much less weird than writing twenty, and I’d...
My NaNoWriMo status graph has been extremely depressing lately, and I’ve been too embarrassed to post it. However, I kicked yesterday’s butt, so I thought would post yesterday’s, just to give a general status update. We’ll call this Mackenzie-is-still-quite-behind-but-will-catch-up-very-soon.
“seize the day” is tattooed on her arm in Latin. carpe diem. but she sits in her dorm and plays tetris. she stares at the boy in her drama class and wishes she had the guts to recite a soliloquy to him. she lives through the fictional people whose lives she follows on netflix. she’s not studying abroad this semester. maybe next year, she tells herself. and she’d love to...
The Woes of a Girl Who Can't Draw
I. Sometimes I wish I could draw Sketch, paint, sculpt, create something concrete Because a picture’s worth a thousand words And even if I write ten thousand They don’t look as nearly as pretty II. When I was nine, I was told I’d be an artist some day, And the teachers told me I had “talent” Whatever that even is But at eighteen, I still draw like that My dogs have four legs in a straight line...
If you ship Seddie or watch iCarly, you need to... →
My best friend Patty wrote an entire album devoted to the Seddie arc of iCarly and the ship in general. And on top of that, the songs are hilarious, well-written and extremely catchy. They’re stuck in my head constantly, and I find myself humming them all the time. Plus, all 7 songs are only $5, and you can listen to the entire album at the link above for a limited time. So why are you...
Thoughts while character planning for my NaNoWriMo...
I can’t decide if naming a character Brock is an awesome or terrible idea. It is far too tempting to give characters punny names that pertain to their superpowers. Two of my characters kinda just decided to be in lesbians with each other. I didn’t even see it coming, but far be it from me to cockblock. The Superpower Wiki seriously needs to stop giving me Rabbit Mimicry while I...
Does anyone have any good ideas for superpowers...
I’m brainstorming for my NaNoWriMo novel, and I need some unique superpowers for my characters. I have a few, but if you have any that you would be willing to share, it would mean a ton.
Please check out my best friend Patty's audition... →