An almost silence.

The quiet, only a gentle hold with fingertips grazing your cheek like a subtle breeze. 

Sand, cold and damp lays underfoot to fall back and forth

Balanced.

You can hear a voice, smooth to the touch. 

Rounded words, dripping from their tongue, falling heavy onto skin. 

The sound wraps around you like silk, clouding your every thought. 

A lament that rises you to the soles of your feet.

A slow unconscious motion, as if sleepwalking. 

Brought to the water’s edge, 

Down dominating dunes.  

And now you ask the Ocean.

You ask the Ocean to help you feel, 

To envelop you within its waters,

To have its life pulse through you. 

The glow of a silver moon will 

Dance over skin 

Like ink on paper, the light touch ingrained 

in memory and meaning. 

If you dip your foot beneath the waves, they’ll welcome you, 

Flowing up your legs to fill lungs with the deep inevitable. 

Have you ever heard the ocean’s voice? 

It’s color copies the rise and fall of the sky, but it’s voice 

Always rings blue. 

Holds sharp with a calm resonance to ripple throughout 

As waves crash and leave foam in their wake.

This color comes with no demands, just Connection. 

Flowing through you.

No need to understand, 

For there’s no reason other than the want to

Exist.

My eyes are open

Yet everything is dark

A tight feeling weighs down my chest

An ache fills my head

Claustraphobia furls within

Expanding, Constricting, Binding me

To my mind

Then I see light, forceful fractals

stab through the sky's pitch

Like a knife

Origins of shooting stars

Initial beauty broken by

Desperation of a hand

Grasping at nothing but

Shattered glass, digging into my palms

Dripping memories

Ingrained

Burning my skin raw

Till bone rises peaks through

A wish for the

In between

The comforting weight

Anything to take back control of my mind

Moonlight slides across my tongue like

Satin

Ice cream

Vanilla and mint

Laying in the middle of the street

When I close my eyes

Snow fills my senses

The smell of wet cement

And frosted grass as I peer through crystalized branches

The warmth of summer and the sting of winter

The burning air of a 5AM run

As sweat drips down upon my lips

How I imagine the middle of the ocean to smell

Away from humanity's pollution

A welcomed solitude

Nothing but clean salt and water

Sloshing into my senses

The silver light consuming me

The wings tracing her shoulder blades

Inked feathers align the luster of Grace

With every breath she believes

She knows it will pass

The chains no longer grind through bloodied skin and

Bone

Angelic in stature and tenderness

The World, she slid from her shoulders

In darkness, no help from flame

Deep within the glass

Her blurry figure hears my lament

My wish

To join her,

No longer in envy for what I can't have

But in love for what I might become.

good writing has never mattered, as long as your thoughts and emotions form the ideas you wish to convey, and your message is understood by at least one person, and that one person soaks your ideals into their blood, boiling for change and meaning, and if they spread your words, from page to phone to skin to feed themselves, your writing is not more than one that never reaches the page from the mind

Wait for me.

Snow entangles eyelashes. I hear her laugh as she falls into fresh powder. The sound reverberates through my mind like church bells on Christmas morning. Winter, unforgivingly beautiful as it forces itself through the trees, wind pushing and aligning the delicate veins of leaves with frost even more gentle. I feel her mitten-covered hand reach out to help me up, and the warmth of past mistakes streaks through the icy numbness and down my face. The echo of memories I wish I could live in forever, begin to fade. And I chased them, I promise Kate, I tried to hold on but I couldn’t keep up. I'm so, so sorry.

The snow begins to blur and glow, a white light approaches the empty purgatory I’ve been subjected to for what has felt like weeks. The subtle radiance begins to push against my eyelids as the ethereal light consumes me entirely.

Foreign hands intrude upon my skin and I hear machinery begin to accelerate, a hurricane of metal. “Off, Off!” I scream with hands over my ears, but they marvel at me as if I was a feral animal. My reemergence was an animalistic Second Coming; although it was less graceful entity, and more goof stumbling out of bed. They all finally quit the gawking and move around to turn off the overheating disaster behind me. I shake my head, fending off the ringing as they shuffle my disoriented self into a room with warm clothes and water. As I pull on the burnt orange sweater, flashes of my dream, or memories try to force their way to the front of my brain. I push them back, willing to deal with my guilt when I see Kate again.

Entering what looks like the main lab, everything seems...cleaner, I think, “So, that felt a lot longer than I was told going into this”

A brave soul who seems like he’s about to ask the devil for kindness questions,“How long do you think you were in there?”

“What do you mean, 'What do I think?' y'all are the scientists. It couldn’t have been more than a few days over the hill give or take.” I notice a lot of confused looks, but the stiff in front of me plasters on a smile, “Mr. Wright, you have led us to a new era of science, your country is forever thankful”

“Uh huh, while I appreciate the gas, could you give me a straight answer, chief?”

“Out of all the other cryogenic chamber experiments, your’s stands as statistically significant. Of course we'll have to take a few samples to check for any anomalous genetic markers in your DNA..." The bumbling idiot, 'Fynn' his name tag says, continues to ramble on as I’m about to snap my cap.

"Let me rephrase that for ya chief: Tell me how long I was in the chamber. " His eyes bulge out from his head as he jerkily steps back into the growing crowd. What a chicken. Not like I would have done anything. Nothing permanent at least. "Alright, someone please go get me Dr. Bryers, because at this point I've come to realize the head of CC52's intelligence rockets way past you lot," In the middle of my expulsion I see a brown skinned broad with a heart-shaped face split the sea of lab coats as she makes her way towards me.

"Hello Mr. Wright, I could-", my tension starts to fade, "Could you pop down to Louis' Place and get me a cup of joe, black, thanks doll" I put on my most charming smile with the energy I have left, but I can tell she's not impressed. "Well I can definitely get one of our interns to help you with that, but as I was saying I'm here to help you with any questions you might have regarding your re-emergence, seeing as I am now the head of CC52. You can call me Dr. Mallory"

The embarrassment burns up my neck, “Wait, seriously- that’s real progressive, uh, I bet you’re a great fit though?” I clear my throat and attempt to regain the conversation’s balance, “So, uh, what happened to Bryers? Kinda early for retirement” I laugh half-heartedly hoping to ease the returning tension in the room. Does not seem to be working. But I gather it’s not just what I said that has everyone on edge.

“Mr. Wright, Dr. Bryers did retire,” she takes a deep breath and the wounded-creature approach vanishes, “I took over for his son actually, the Dr. Bryers you’re thinking of, he passed away 17 years ago.”

I want to crack up at the funniest joke I’ve ever heard, but I feel the weight drop on me.

“17 years, it’s been 17 yea-,” My head snaps up. Whispers. So many secrets. The flurry of panic builds in my chest. I turn to her, probably looking like I belong in the looney bin, but this is the sanest I’ve felt since re-emerging. So close to the answer. “ What’s happened, I need the truth. Now.” Tentativeness arrives in her objective-stricken eyes, “You, you’ve been in there an unprecedented amount of time, there were bugs that needed fixing, but you’re fine it’s just,” her eyes close in a last hope to disappear, and for a brief moment I hold sympathy for this poor girl who didn’t ask to be thrown at the mercy of an uncaged loon-

“Sixty-seven years”

The lab goes quiet. Or maybe the noise rises. But all I can hear is that chamber. The wiring whirs mockingly, drowning out anything and everything I knew.

I don’t know what to say, even if I did I wouldn’t because all that would come out is regret.

And I’ve never been one for regret.

That’s why I walked out.

I didn’t look back to see her face.

I was wrong, and she knew it, but I wouldn’t-

I wouldn’t take back what I said.

“You’re hurting me James,” My attention snaps to Dr. Mallory, grip tight on her arm, I let go knowing her answer won’t change. I sit there, staring blankly at a wall where the paint runs over the dented moulding. I walk over and chip it off with my nail. Someone starts to speak, and it takes a bit for me to realize they’re my own words:

“While I was stationed in France, you know uh Paris and the like during The War, I remember a man, name just like yours, Mallory, old French geezer,” I notice only a few eyes left, this pathetic display doesn’t seem to draw in the yucks as much, “I don’t remember much of Normandy, when they rained us out, striking us like lightning to a tree, not helpless, just stuck. But old man Mallory, I couldn’t forget him if I tried. Found his leg before I saw the rest of him, splayed and splattered chest heaving with a man’s dying words. I wanted to help, but it was too late, so I did the only thing I could, listen: ‘mon nom de famille signifie "malchanceux", mais quel putain d'euphémisme.’This awful mix of his own gurgling blood and laughter came out of his corpse.” I let out a humorless laugh myself thinking about it now.

I finally look the Doctor in the eyes again, “He said his last name meant unfortunate. Quite a fucking understatement.” I know you shouldn’t shoot the messenger, but she seemed to be the only one who thought she could control this. Guess I’ll leave it up to her then. “You murdered me, drained my life with this undesired immortality. So now you are going to get me some money, and let me leave. I might come back. Maybe not. But I’m leaving now.”

“James-,”

“No. You don’t get to call me that. You’re not my friend. I don’t know you and I’m leaving.”

“Mr. Wright, please be careful, the world has changed.” I see what she's saying when two Franklins land in my hand. I turn and walk out the door. Just like that. I know they’ll come for me later, but for now I have something to do. I started running. Running with the speed of the young man I shouldn’t be. Down, and down and down the rabbit hole I go. Then I hit the last door with my full force, stumbling into the light. Gleaming giants tower over, defying more belief within me than my own pounding blood. The steely monsters are nothing in comparison to the streets’ weapons of clamorous intent. Souped up automobiles chase after one another as people have conversations on little black boxes. Both guys and gals are chrome-plated to the max. Suddenly, I’m gettin’ busted on both sides by people speeding past.

A rising vibration flies through my feet up and up my shoulders. A loud mechanical whirring starts up in the back of my head and I take off. I need to get as far away as possible. I need this ringing to stop. I see blurs of glittering shops on 5th slide into the welcoming drear of stacked apartments. Why does everything move so fast, no one knows when to slow down. No one talks to anyone but themselves. We traded our souls for inanimate love. Materialism soaks into our blood like lead. Poisoning us under the weight of artificial hope. I need my someone. Standing up hurriedly I buzz 137, “Kate, baby, It’s me, I know I’ve been gone, but I’m home, please I need to see you.”

“Hey, douchebag, Dr. Wright doesn’t live here anymore, she passed away a few years ago, everyone knows that."

"What? But I-"

"It was in the papers, ya know,” he waits for me to get it, but I stay silent, “the whole man-stuck-in-ice mess got revealed and some anti-science extremists... assassinated her at a press event. Look, she was a close friend of mine, and I'm done talking about this. Leave."

"I love Kate, I know you're lying, I know-"

"Get her name out of your desperate mouth and leave. Make me say it again and I'll call security.”

Why did I do this to her? I traded our life for an empty feeling of success. Desperation. My feet drag across the ground, across block after block of cement. Overhanging construction shades my face from the setting sun.

Sixty-Seven Years.

Eternal youth.

Statistically significant.

Forever thankful.

New era of science.

I feel the ice return as the night drags on, as if someone has come to punch a hole in my chest just to stroke my heart and tell me I’m fine.

It’s for the greater good.

Before I see where I am, I can smell the salt-soaked wood of the pier. The ocean sprays my face as I walk towards the water. Quiet. Rhythmic waves push softly against the sand. The moon reflects a deep luster rippling through silver emptiness. Winter is on its way out the door, only a futile marine breeze passes through me. Nothing has changed here. If I let myself drift I can still feel your brown eyes trace the lines of my face, and the constellations through city smog. Except you’re not here. I shouldn’t be here either. I’m supposed to keep smiling and breathing and living without you. I left you for the egotistical admiration they reflected into my eyes. I came back like I always do after a fight, but it was too late for us. I should’ve turned around and said I love you, I love you, I love you. I know you loved me. Even after The War you helped me find myself when my vision darkened. The tense rope of hate that connects me to the world never extended to you. I could always feel your fingers playing along mine, loosening the tendrils from my hands. No, I did this to myself, and I can only hope you found someone who treats you better. But no one could ever love you more than I.

Looking up at the darkening lilac of Space, I imagine you can see me just as clearly. For now, I’ll wait by your stars.

Color is the reflection of our perception

An electromagnetic spectrum

We trick ourselves into believing

As a way to force life

But the vibrance and depression of living

Surviving

Can't be contained within

A Word

A show of our immortal decadence

To believe something so enamorous is

Property

To be judged and Devoured

Color is free to choose how it feels

Debates are fueled by impassioned reds

willing away their path

Whispers of pale tangerine and silver

string along an early morning haze

The way you look at me,

the seafoam of Aphrodite fills your eyes

Those are colors

I'm never home for Thanksgiving

An island pelted with silver summer

An airport with ringing silence and phantom strangers

A car ride going 80 down the highway

A hole-in-the-wall restaurant

The cranberry sauce, always sublime

The stuffing, subpar

The turkey, never been a fan

Company, I can do without

Friendsgiving

An avalanche of warmth to burst from the kitchen

An ingrained smell of cinammon and firewood in the backyard

A room brimming with obscenely loud laughter

A pitch black night alight with company

The ham, ringed with golden pineapples

The pumpkin pie, piled with whipped cream

The green bean casserole, ethereally creamy

Friends, can't get enough