About vividardence

i'm Will. i write poetry, most of the time, and sometimes I share it. often vaguely trying to stick to putting something up every day, often not doing that for large stretches of time. often don't make much sense. hope you find something to enjoy,


curled over the wall, slick
with paint, lines surgical
and precise, tracking epithets
of deeds and at least one life.

your sighs were waiting
in counter-top novels, point
dead riverbeds where we
followed footfalls, each
an end, nothing but gratitude
overflowing and finding
a bed covered in books.

words are theories in forgettable lands
you drew pictures all about memory


i heard you lived,
unfurled, and lied.

i didn’t. hum yellowed
paper, tapping fingertips
to thumb, counting
the moments where I
can’t think  – reverse,
rewrite, revise, expand
the way small white sane
maker packets look on
bathroom tiles, a thousand
furious threads failing
at being thought touch
worlds and names and places
better left remembered,
call halls of numbness
homes there’s all dust and-

i sketched roots to problems
we never knew we had