Suburban Saint's published ficlets
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5 Things I've Never Told Anyone
1. I’m afraid of my Dad because he’s hit me before.
2. I’m afraid to have relationships that fail the way my parents’ did.
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Ramblings on Love
Love is the ultimate god.
Being in love is the only heaven; where girls are angels and boys are saints.
As great as this he…
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Physics
Thunder leaves your clouds for lightning
But I just want to shine them both away
Let them crash and flash somewhere far off f… -
just me talking
I love you
I’ve told you so many times before
And every time you listened and you
Smiled
That beautiful smile
But this time y… -
Need a challenge?
Write me the most poetic thing that you can accomplish without using rhyme, assonance, consanance, meter, stanza’s, purposefu…
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Passing Love Like Secrets
We always snuck food out of the cafeteria. And then pass it back and forth in class. Always getting each other’s favorites in…
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The Journey
It seems so odd that this is where I had been trying to get.
You never would’ve thought that all that I’ve said and done ove…
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Gravestones
I don’t even know anyone who died.
Sure, the friends-dad or granparent or movie star. But I’ve never shaken hands or given a…
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I'm Right Here
Can’t you see me? When we’re alone, its like I’m the only thing you’ve ever seen in your entire life and you wouldn’t close y…
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A Single Day
She always talks different around me. This girl who always says she hates to write, suddenly has a way to say just the right …
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Riding Your Thumb
Such an ironic moment. To be so lost when I am most found. The realist in me is telling the poet to shut up and enjoy it, but…
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Perfect
I’ll just spend my day sitting around because bad timing and an empty house have thrown off every plan I tried to make. I cou…
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Drummer Love
I’m just so unused to everything about you. In truth, my hearts been beating along to a different chorus for so long that you…
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Silent & Empty
You know the road is empty. No headlights coming through the windshield. No bliding highbeams through the rearview. You’re su…
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My Porch (cont'd 3)
Even when what we were conversing was talk of hell from angels lips, no moment felt so right. No moment as ironically terribl…
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My Porch (cont'd 2)
With the angel shedding tears on the other end of the airway, I break down in the grass. Hitting the ground I feel a chill go…
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My Porch
The view from my porch faces east. I, the poetic saint, look up at a black sky, every star covered by a cloud that is as impe…
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Slain (cont'd)
It’s no surprise I’ve ended up here, pissing in the urinal of some rundown strip club full of highly effective explosives wit…
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Slain
Names are funny things. A name that starts out sounding strange and lopsided soon, after saying it endlessly, begins to roll …
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Mr. Benjamin Scott (sq. to Smell of Dead Cigarettes)
Above the door I came in through is a small speaker box. The kind you would find in any doctors office or school class. The m…
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