Wicked Wisdom

Video: Reading 2/22/10
February 24, 2010, 6:15 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

Reading “Freedom” & “The Baby.” at The Evening Muse in Charlotte NC.


February 19, 2010, 3:44 am
Filed under: Fiction, Microfiction, Writing


“Come home. Please, come home, right now.”

“You know I’m busy right now…”

“There’s been an emergency. My mom died.”

You hesitate.

“I’ll be right there.”

I sit the phone down and return to pacing outside of your bedroom door. This used to be our bedroom. Our situation is interesting. We were together for six years and then you dumped me. Now we just live in the same house, but you spend most of your time at your girlfriend’s.

I hear the front door unlock and I run down the stairs. I’m always a very cautious person and almost never run down the stairs but tonight rationality escapes me. Before you can even shut the door behind yourself my arms are around you and I’m burying my face in your chest trying my best not to let tears escape from my eyes.

I know this is usually not okay. But right now, I feel like you’re willing to make an exception. I know this is usually not okay, but right now my mother is fucking dead. Right now, you’ve moved on, but right now I feel like you can make room for me. Because you did love me. Because right now, right now I need you.

You don’t shy away from me, you don’t remind me that this isn’t okay anymore. You just hold me tight. We stand like this for several moments, and then I release my hold and grab your hand. Avoiding eye contact I silently pull you up the stairs.

We stand outside of the doorway to the bedroom that was once ours and is now your own. “I need you to open this door, and I need you to lay on the bed. I need you to let me lie next to you okay?”

You open the door and take me by the hand.

Reading 2/15/1020 (Video)
February 16, 2010, 5:47 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

Here is another video of me reading at The Evening Muse in Charlotte NC. This week I read “No Conclusion” and “Raise Your Glass”!

Reading. (Video)
February 9, 2010, 12:43 pm
Filed under: Writing

Here is a video of me reading Hell To Pay (Again) & Mom and Tom at the Evening Muse in Charlotte NC last night.

It’s been a long term goal of mine to actually go and do a reading somewhere, but until last night I had never had the guts to put the dream into reality.

It felt great.

Out of Love
February 7, 2010, 12:57 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

Last night we both realized that we are falling out of love. Neither of us mentioned it, but we both know that we know.

Maybe it’s because you’re sick of me throwing things in your face, and maybe it’s because I’m sick of feeling like I have to throw things in your face so that you remember how much you owe me for putting me through all you have.

Or maybe it’s just that we’re not meant to be.

Part of me, a very large part of me, wants to mourn this love. A smaller part wants to be glad that things will probably be ending soon.

We’re both tired of laying in bed facing opposite directions, wondering if the other one is asleep. Wondering what the other is thinking, since our telepathy recently stopped working.

Maybe you’re put off by the bad habits I’m picking back up. My smoking. The drinking. Crying in the bathroom floor.

It’s probably best that this has happened, because now that we know we soon won’t love each other we won’t have to keep fighting.

We can just admit that we are separate people and go on with our lives, trying to salvage what might be left of some great connection that we once had and see if it translates to a friendship.

It probably won’t. And as much as I won’t love you, I also won’t be able to bare to sit across from you while you talk about how well you’re moving on. I won’t be able to deal with picturing you laying next to someone else, even though laying next to you brings me happiness no more.

It’s probably best that we split our things and go our separate ways. I’m tempted to return to Europe so I don’t have a chance of running into your friends that I don’t know who will have heard stories about how miserable I made your life.

Staying here would mean fearing that every barista, homeless, and stranger is silently judging me and feeling sorry for you as I walk past.

My home country of Sweeden isn’t sounding too bad in comparison to that.

To The Edge.
February 3, 2010, 7:26 pm
Filed under: Fiction, Microfiction, Writing

When we were children we saw the same things, like ghosts in the clouds.

When we were teenagers we held each other’s hands during intense moments, like when we found your mom hanging from the ceiling of her bedroom.

When we were 20 we moved to the other side of the country and left  what remained our parents notes saying we loved them, but we knew they were lies.

We loved no one but each other.

Or so I thought.

Each night we’d lay down in our bed and I’d pull you close to me and smell your hair. This was bliss.

Each night you’d kiss me on my forehead, and I’d think to myself – thank god. I’d think to myself – you’ve saved my life. I’d think to myself – I can never be without this.

And then the forehead kisses stopped.

And then you started sleeping on the couch.

Tonight we’re sitting at the kitchen table and you’re making a list of qualities you want in a lover, and I’m helping you write the personal ad – because it’s the only thing I can do now to make you happy.

“She has to wear dresses, but not the kind you wear. Something more feminine, but not as girly. You know what I mean?”

I nodded my head and held back tears.

“She has to wear her hair down all of the time, kind of like your hair cut but you never wear it down.”

I nod and add this to the list, and I think to myself that as soon as you look away I should undo my ponytail.

“She has to be at least two inches shorter than me, and she has to be passionate about something. But something interesting. And something that she won’t talk about all of the time.”

I nod, wipe a tear from my face, and plan to no longer discuss my writing with you.

“Well, I’m going to go to sleep now. Is it okay if I take the bed tonight?”

I nod. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Cool, I can’t wait to see what you come up with.”

You leave for the bedroom and shut and lock the door. On the piece of paper I quickly write lipstick lesbian seeks same and walk to the living room to go to sleep.

The Last Time
January 30, 2010, 3:12 pm
Filed under: Fiction, Writing

Last night I kissed you for the last time.

Right now, you’re with someone else. Someone you have the capability of loving.

Last night I touched you for the last time.

Right now you’re probably being touched by someone you’re going to let yourself love.

That thought makes me want to be sick.

You two are probably kissing, and I want to be happy for you but it’s just too hard to do that.

There’s no use for me anymore.

Last night was the last night I’d ever see you before you spent the night with this other person, and last night was the last time I’d ever be able to look at you without crying.

Right now, I’m lighting the last cigarette I’ll ever smoke.

Today marks the first day of the rest of your life.

Right now, I’m taking the last drag from my last cigarette and the first of the last breathes I will ever take.

Today marks the last day of the rest of my life.

I’m taking my last breath. I’m crying my last tear.