You have run off and taken my anger with you.
Zeus drawing lines in the sand
with his lightning bolts
because he cannot find a reason to throw them;
I think you are a coward.
I think other poets have written this poem.
I think other men have run off the same way 
but it never really feels the same; 
each new absence a fresh burn.
A grazed knee. A paper cut. A plane crash.
—  "A Paper Cut", Trista Mateer

I think you are the only thing
I’ve ever run towards instead of away from.
I’ve been biting my tongue bloody
since we met.
I’ve been dry swallowing my love poems.

The first time we spoke on the phone,
I didn’t even know your name.
It’s funny how things can change
and not change.

You don’t call me back to bed anymore.

Last night, I slept on the couch.
I woke up and wished that I could drown
at the bottom of a bottle of wine.
I poured a cup of coffee
and dumped it down the drain.
I scrubbed my hands red raw at the kitchen sink.
I’m still trying to get
the scent of you
off of me.

Here is my selfish poem.
The one I hope you never read.
The one I hope you read and forget about.
The one I hope you read and just don’t
bring up.

Please don’t fall in love with someone new.

—  "It’s Just Not Practical", Trista Mateer
Take Me To Church {{War AU}} || Open

Sam was coming home. Finally, it had been years since he had seen his better half, let alone anything that wasn’t trying to kill him. The war wasn’t over yet, not even close. They were still in the thick of things. But Sam had been mortally wounded. A week ago, his caravan had run over a land mine, causing them to lose four soldiers, with which, Sam had been very close with. Leaving Sam and another soldier, Benjamin, another close friend, in the hospital at base. 

There was still a faint buzzing in his left ear and Sam assumed he’d be partially deaf for the rest of his life, along with being down a leg. But, even if it could have been a happier circumstance, Sam was going home. Where he belonged, right beside his significant other. Who, Sam knew was still loyal to him. They had an unbreakable bond. Especially since the other had also been in the war.

Now, Sam was siting in his wheelchair, slowly making his way through the crowd at the airport to find the other. They said they would meet Sam there, and part of him didn’t think it would happen. It had been five years after all, Sam wouldn’t blame them if they had moved on. 

Cole was sitting on the ground, a few kittens resting in his lap as he watched the sky, not paying attention to anything else for the moment only really hearing the soft purring from the tiny animals.

Little boys crying over girls wearing too much makeup, yet they make fun of a girl not wearing any……? How does that make any sense?