Exposure

BrockaArt, Poems, RelationshipsLeave a Comment

Every thought and curiosity; every confession and self reflection; every crush and heartbreak; every daydream and plan-for and fantasy; every hate and shame. From whimsy to grand scheme, all had been transcribed meticulously into a journal. It held the culmination of the last year. It lived in a carryall during the day and beside the bed at night. And then just like that -in a snap, it got left behind on a bus. She would never see it again. She felt raw, like she had been folded inside-out. She cried for days. This was the most mortifying thing she could’ve imagined.   ~~~  Amber’s phone is plugged into an outlet on the bathroom counter while she showers. There had been a … Read More

BrockaExposure

Food Stuffs

BrockaHealth & WellnessLeave a Comment

Five couples are scattered about in a sunken living room. It’s close to midnight and they’re all donning black tie attire from an event earlier in the evening. They had taken a limo there and then the limo back to this home, where their cars await. They linger and laze-about, rehashing the night; retelling earlier conversations and gossip; commenting on whom was coupled with whom and how others were dressed. All of it is very friendly and light-hearted, with a twinge of snobbishness. In this intimate social circle, they speak freely.   One party goer steps away from the group and makes her way down the hallway into a kitchen. She opens the refrigerator to refill a water glass and sees a can … Read More

BrockaFood Stuffs

Lives of Others

BrockaFashion, Music, Poems, Short StoriesLeave a Comment

I hear the beat and it brings me back to you. We are dancing together in the living room. In our own little world -spinning each other, then pushing apart to individually croon into our imaginary microphones. We are putting on a show in the living room. Attendees are half engaged in muted conversation and half giving us attention. We sing alto and soprano off of one another and when we bellow out the moving, crescendo parts of the song, all attention fully focuses on us. Always. We concentrate the room. We are performers. Many of these people have little in common, but we brought them together.  ‘Oh Lacey, why are you afraid? Look how you get up in front … Read More

BrockaLives of Others

Sleepovers

BrockaMusic, Poems, Relationships, Short StoriesLeave a Comment

Her house is the house. Anyone can show up; anyone can stay. And that’s the draw. But more have shown up this time than ever before and it’s a bit overwhelming. Elbow to elbow, full of body heat. Loud. So loud. Between the energy of the crowd and the bouncing music, the house can appear as if it’s pulsing. She runs through the rooms making sure people are keeping their shit contained. How the hell does she always wake up to a clean house after these parties? They respect! They are not allowed if they don’t. She scolds with the quick. The house is small and she runs a tight ship. She cracks the whip, ‘Empty your ashtrays! Throw your beer cans … Read More

BrockaSleepovers

Hiding From Sleep

BrockaHistory, Mood RoomLeave a Comment

Time ceases to exist here. It is after-hours and before hours. There was no planning to arrive; one simply shows up. No one has a name, but everyone is recognizable. You sense a familiarity, but that does not afford you the right to strike up conversation. And don’t take a seat with anyone outside of your circle. This place is both seedy and safe. You have entered a shared private place that is still trying to maintain secrecy.   The night is over, and you are wide awake. There is only one place to go. Your drive is navigable by a few streetlights. You take a long, mindless avenue towards downtown. Neighborhoods flash on either side until you have reached a dark … Read More

BrockaHiding From Sleep