Robbed of laughter from a pounding thief, whose only prize is to see me doubled over with my palms pressed against my eyes. Anything to help alleviate the pain. Still having a voice yet feeling voiceless. Each increasing octave is like an assault against the brain: crack, thud, bang! No more drunken stages, 15 minutes … Continue reading Sorry, I can’t Help You
Author: Matt
Still trying to find my place.
Dead Romance at 36
The scent of your lotion clung to my arm as I took the long way home, making me think of when you playfully pressed yourself against me in a flirtatious manner. I sat there in shy silence and smiled, thinking about what to say or if I should put my arm around you in hopes … Continue reading Dead Romance at 36
Life Stories: The Shake
From 1997-1999, my time in middle school was a medicated hellride full of fuck-yous and defiance as I tried my best to become the Stone Cold Steve Austin of Greenfield. I fought authority Monday through Friday with the prescribed tag team of Paxil and Depakote, feeling like an invincible ball of charismatic fat as I … Continue reading Life Stories: The Shake
La Tigre
The sometimes traumatic and oftentimes familiar scent of Eau De Bullshit can come out of nowhere and blindside you with a haymaker, like a fragrant bully whose only goal is to steal the change you've made during the overtime shift of your life. Dinner dates at a mutually favorite restaurant, where you're served an appetizer … Continue reading La Tigre
Pseudo Parenting
In a legal and literal sense, my oldest friend is still a father. Unfortunately, about four years ago he gave in to the mental peer pressure of his meth-addled demons and fell off the minivan, losing more than his fair share of teeth in the process. On the way to his new life of becoming … Continue reading Pseudo Parenting
