Tag Archives: spilled ink

Will Happen, Happening, Happened

Posted on December 4, 2022 by stephicham

When we met, I saw how it would end Your hand in mine, joy in your eyes Snow on our shoulders, fire by our side I knew your skirt’s rustle as you walked away How your shoes would say, “But … Continue reading →

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A letter to the blue poet

Posted on May 19, 2018 by stephicham

In fairytales, lands far away In dripping clouds and singing skies are your golden dreams, your promises – All beginnings, no goodbyes Here is somewhere, everywhere you aren’t, where every breath is wrong Every today is in the past, every … Continue reading →

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before, after, now, always

Posted on June 29, 2017 by stephicham

we were never like them, you and i. we never wanted to be. you said i would one day be president; you would be my bodyguard. i said i’d grow up to be a mermaid; you said you’d guard me … Continue reading →

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Posted on December 14, 2014 by stephicham

To you, You are the hidden shadow in the darkness You are the flip side of the moon You are the clouds that sunlight struggles to shine through You are the burning sand on beaches of barefoot kids You are … Continue reading →

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On Goodbyes

Posted on December 4, 2014 by stephicham

Goodbye. It happens when you wake up in the morning and for the first time, you didn’t dream about him. You don’t even think about it. It happens when you watch your favorite show and you no longer instinctively reach … Continue reading →

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Vestige

Posted on September 15, 2014 by stephicham

On the tip of yesterday I stand, awaiting you I hear soft music in the east Mais pas de mot de vous A brookside path I walk upon Alone amidst the light And when the tiny specks of dusk Draw … Continue reading →

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Journal: desperation

Posted on September 30, 2013 by stephicham

I’ve been running my whole life. I run to people I care about, trying to heal anyone and everyone within reach. I can’t. I run after my passions, chasing them down like the last, lone sign of life in a … Continue reading →

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Journal: Sixteen

Posted on August 30, 2013 by stephicham

I feel 16. 16 is not worrying about homework and jobs and grades and college. That’s not what 16 is meant for. 16 is lust and love and passion and hate and singing at the top of your lungs and … Continue reading →

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