guilt
is a bitter
taste. a rotten fruit
in one's mouth.
the harm
we do to others
stays with us
beyond
reason or logic.
we can't spit
it out,
ever, though
the taste lessens
over time
with confession.
no words can soothe
either soul.
press on.
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February
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- her red high heels
- indecision
- the pressure
- nothing to say
- there is work
- the gas
- wrong address
- today
- the palm reader
- make it go away
- the crazies
- all yours
- should have had the meat lasagna
- to kneel and pray
- stop the bus
- when you marry an evil person
- we have the room
- a plate of hours
- the white cake
- the busy hens
- sunny inside
- the ping of contact
- come home
- give her room
- the love within
- some people
- the stage mother
- the picnic
- where have you been
- the long distance call
- i've made a mistake
- secret ingredients
- gun control
- doing laundry
- doing laundry
- nine pages
- nine pages
- in the moment
- as it should be
- as it should be
- spin the wheel
- the worst mistake i've ever made
- all hell broke loose
- into open arms
- yes. me.
- the black crow
- night walk
- forward
- why not
- so far away
- the fast year
- stored away
- the old job
- get there from here
- rare fruit
- the buzz of silence
- the itch
- condo association
- a poem
- the beat
- the hearts
- the long book
- my therapist
- coffee talk
- as it should be
- the weight
- just like that
- the pale sun
- that look
- the cave drawings
- the new world
- every inch of your love
- bullets
- light starch
- press on
- in colors
- the black bull
- this way
- not a pretty cat
- boxes
- the long road
- coming out the other side
- we fall
- the black leather coat
- a month of birthdays
- no forwarding address
- a wrong turn
- form over function
- light over dark
- in the cave
- what now
- the late letter
- waiting for the sun
- rainy day money
- the carnival date
- cow milk
- sleep walk
- what to sell
- wood for the fire
- never enough
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February
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About Me
- Stephen Chute
- west springfield, virginia, United States
- these are all FICTIONAL stories and characters and are in no way representative of any real experiences in my or anyone else's life. any similarities are purely coincidental, except for the dog poems.
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