You were no more than a string of zeroes and one’s. — I don’t remember the details since too much time has passed. It doesn’t matter. You probably don’t remember me either. It’s better that way. Less hurt feelings involved, you know? You began as just a name on the screen. For a brief time that summer, every little ding of a…

Prose Poetry — Do you remember the sound of the trees as we walked along the forest trails? The litany of leaves skittering, crackling against each other’s spines, became a song to accompany us on our journey. Your smile was as bright as the sunshine splintering through the trees and casting shadows match…

Did he even put that much effort into caring about you? — To the Girl Standing in the Corner, I see you there, off to the side, trying not to rile up anyone’s attention. Your eyes follow trails on the floor as if making eye contact would be the death of you. Your body seems to be in a war between fidgeting…

Your niceties made you crueler. — I don’t think you ever realized how the niceness of you could be its own weapon. Your smile was the perfect warning sign. I should have known better than to think it would be easy loving someone like you. When you give out your smiles and kind words as if…

Sometimes there’s just that one-in-a-million person. — I was the starstruck age of fifteen, and you were already thinking yourself a champion in the making. There was no room in your life for me. But I edged in anyway, trying to find a foothold in your psyche. You were the apple of your father’s eye, though you…

Prose Poetry — Say it loud with me — if the words are burning in your throat, waiting for a release that’s been put on hold for days and months and years. We tell ourselves we’re the gods of the universe, but we know so little in a universe that has spanned millennia…

He was a charmer, that one. — My daughter Nikki had always been the jealous sort, especially when it came to those nights she brought dates home and shot me looks of warning. “Don’t you dare flirt with my boyfriends,” her eyes seemed to say. I tried to laugh it off with her, but she never seemed…

No one ever gives cashiers enough credit. — I know you hate your job. I can see it in the way your forehead puckers as you concentrate on ringing up items for an old woman who already has her coupons at the ready. When it’s our turn in line, I try to avoid your look as I push…

Some things don’t run in the family. — It was May, the month I dreaded because it meant the arrival of my yearly brunch date with my sister Nina. I arrived a little late, stopping at a nearby mirror in the waiting area to flatten a few of my wild curls. When I was satisfied — or as…