Freshly Dusted

UnfaithfulBy Asche Keegan  It’s not you; it’s me. You were free falling to my misdirections, Left weakened by all my insipid inflections. Now our hearts rend asunder, bleeding words pink But there’s no use crying over spilled ink. I could list every reason I’m glad to depart, Citing domestic distress or affairs of the heart. Question none of these reasons, this much I...

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Bottled UpBy Asche Keegan “You might as well come in,” I say. “I’ve thought about every possible ramification of your coming, and I’ve determined I can no longer deny your existence outside my door. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t inviting in a ghost. Not that those exist, of course, but I’m sure you know what I mean.” He coughs, stooping in and...

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TarmacBy Asche Keegan “Do you always strike matches on your shoe?” Rick glanced over at her. “You ever smoked before?” “No.” “Figured.” He lit his cigarette and took a drag, turning and blowing the smoke into Lilith's face. She scrunched up her nose but didn’t cough, and he stared at her a couple of seconds longer before handing her the match. It took...

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 CabernetBy Asche Keegan  “You’re a racist, Bibbs,” I said, tipping the glass towards the ancient oil painting. The portrait continued to stare moodily into the distance, perhaps pondering a world where someone else might be as great as he. “And now I’ve gotta get rid of you somehow.” I swirled the glass, watching the Cabernet slosh back and forth. The sight made me...

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Tempting FateBy Asche KeeganTW: Self-harm and suicide Note: This is not an autobiographical piece.  I burned my hand again.I got distracted and held my palm under the open flame too long, and it charred. I flicked off the lighter but didn’t flinch, staring in fascination at the darkness on my otherwise light skin.I imagined my body the color of ash, hair the red-gold...

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Soul SearchingBy Asche Keegan I’ve been soul searching lately, but I never thought I would find myself on the softball field, caught between a base and a pop up high in the air. The game is tied, and the pitcher shoots me a glare through her eye makeup. I grin back, leaning onto the back of my foot. She throws the ball, and...

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 A SentenceBy Asche Keegan Anyone can pontificate upon the pursuit of intelligence based on a lexicon of concordance, but few of those convinced of the eminence of vocabulary can conduct rational dialogues. ...

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Out of ConcreteBy Asche KeeganAcross the Earth gardens grew and ivy trailed across long lost walls while forests rose and fell with the passing of the planet around the sun. Fertile soil reaped fair results, but little grew where men had domesticated.But in one place, the Moon and a Rose loved a Girl, and the Girl and the Rose loved the Moon, and...

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 Parking Lot By Asche Keegan  TW: Adult themes There is something almost sultry about neon pink lights reflected on the dashboard. It brings back stories of sex, drugs, rock & roll, the fifties, and classic cars under the moon. The revving of the engine in time with the couples making out in the back, rocking the vehicle to and fro in their haste...

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The WeddingBy Asche KeeganMy uncle is an eccentric sort of person, the type of man to wear cat ears and clown noses on a trip to Walmart, the sort who wears mismatched shoes with a tie. I’m embarrassed to be seen with him most of the time—as is most of the rest of the family. Unfortunately, he’s got custody over me for the...

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 Haunted (Journaling) By Asche KeeganI have abandoned my old haunts, but they have not abandoned me. I sit alone in empty rooms, ancient worlds calling to me. Voices whisper. Remember your first English teacher? In that dusty room? It was always raining outside. The projector was broken. She did everything by hand, brought props to class. She was so busy, but you never...

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 Freedom to SpeakBy Asche KeeganI am my own person,Fiercely opinionated and fiercely independent.But my family tells me,“Sometimes you just have to go along with it;It’s safe.”Safe.            Safe.                        Safe.So in public,I bow my head.I bite my tongue.I nod along, andI write whatI don’t believe. But I’m tired of staying safe.You can not lasso my languageAnd corral me into a corner.A match can light a fire;A fire...

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