The early 20’s: a haiku

the-leap:

My checking account

is in the single digits

but my heart is full. 

"What does it say about modern romance,"

the-leap:

you ask,
"that a girl will go down on you
before she’ll hold your hand?”

It says that the body is easier,
that it’s simpler for me to undress
and expose what you can
see.

It’s easier for you to count
the freckles on my wrist or find
the scar on my knee
where I cut myself shaving
for the first…

Rejection always comes on Sundays: a poem

the-leap:

I told a girl in my Bible study
that I’d found a great bar
and had a Friday night that
made me forget that alcoholism
runs in my family.
"What do they mean when they say that,"
I asked her, “that alcohol ‘runs?’
That it runs like blood in a vein
or just runs us all away
from each other?”

I almost…

http://the-leap.tumblr.com/post/68784501145/more-dreams-car-alarms-echoed-in-the-distance

the-leap:

"More dreams."

Car alarms echoed in the distance, harmonizing with police sirens.

"Utter, intact separateness obscured by the heat of living…"

"What?" she cocked an eyebrow at the words. "What’s all that about?"

I shrugged. “I don’t know, just something I’ve been thinking about recently….

http://the-leap.tumblr.com/post/68784501145/more-dreams-car-alarms-echoed-in-the-distance

the-leap:

image

"More dreams."

Car alarms echoed in the distance, harmonizing with police sirens.

"Utter, intact separateness obscured by the heat of living…"

"What?" she cocked an eyebrow at the words. "What’s all that about?"

I shrugged. “I don’t know, just something I’ve been thinking about recently….

the-leap:

image

"So my next short story is going to be about vikings. Vikings with guns."

"Why haven’t you started it?"

"I can’t figure out a good way to explain how they got them in the first place." 

http://the-leap.tumblr.com/post/67626134243/okay-so-i-have-this-phobia-perfect-he-said

the-leap:

image Okay, so I have this phobia.”

"Perfect," he said. "I happen to have a hobby of curing phobias."

"You’re going to laugh." But it was worse than that - he would patronize. I knew his type, knew it from the formula sheet sticking out of his messenger bag and the way he watched me pause to add…