Sarah .'s Blog: now's a terrible time to forget again., page 96
April 18, 2015
Don’t Let Me Go
April 16, 2015
what Proust said
(almost).
as i sat writing in the quiet this...
April 15, 2015
PAPERBACKS GO BOOM
i can’t stop shaking around my heart.i am so beyond overwhelmed...
i can’t stop shaking around my heart.
i am so beyond overwhelmed in and with and for love.
okay, so, yo -ensuring that ecopies of my work are free is...
okay, so, yo -
ensuring that ecopies of my work are free is something that’s sincerely important to me. the fact that i can’t set them that way on amazon frustrates to almost no end.
so, 100% of all profits until KDP catches up, will be donated to Synergy Services - a local organization that offers emergency shelter, transitional housing, advocacy, theraputic services, mentoring and violence prevention programs for runaways, homeless, and victimized youth.
for more information: http://www.synergyservices.org/?page=Main_About_Us
four signed paperbacks of Don't Let Me Go
April 14, 2015
"She looks at me again, and between smoke-clouded worries and wishing D wouldn’t have left with..."
iamwizz:Screenshots dont scare me i know what the fuck i said
April 13, 2015
#ransoman excerpt:<3Digging
carefully with my thumb, I...
#ransom
an excerpt:
Digging
carefully with my thumb, I pull the peel away and let it fall to the
grass below. I’ve parted and eaten half the orange when a shift in
the light coming through the glass behind me tugs my attention.
Turning
and standing straight, I lay eyes on the one thing that might draw
out and wise up this girl’s reckless, forgetful, and seriously fucked
brother.
With
her left half glowing in soft white light, she meets my look. Black
cotton swallows her like a wave, my short sleeves long on her arms
and my sweatpants baggy on her legs. Her hair’s piled in a bun on top
of her head, showing off her neck, and when she turns off the light,
there’s a sensation like gripping in my gut.
Blinking
to adjust to the sudden dark, I lean away from the ledge as she opens
the door to come outside too. Colored incandescent by the same city
nighttime as I am, she doesn’t wonder or waver. Shy gratitude shines
in her eyes when she glances up as she comes to stand beside me, and
when I hold the orange out in offering, she nods.
I
tug a cleft free, and she takes it, placing her elbows on the deck
ledge and looking out. Returning my arms to the same ledge, I drag my
eyes from everything that’s making me conspire, and stare out toward
the golden-glowing Charles Center.
But
my peripheral vision stays locked.
And
when small and clean and scented like me swallows softly, I break
another cleft away.
I
offer it without looking or speaking, and she accepts it and each
piece after just the same, until my hands are empty.
now's a terrible time to forget again.
what you should have written was: sarah - POETRY
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