June 2012
“You’re beautiful, but you’re empty…. No one could die for you.”
– The Little Prince (via morganhope)
But my rose she is unique in all the world.
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May 2012
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My date indirectly uninvited himself, so I’m going alone to a wedding this summer. If you’re looking for me, I’ll be the bitter one dancing barefoot in the middle of the floor, holding her shoes in her hand.
This is just going to get harder as I get older and still haven’t really dated someone in years. It’d be one thing to say “oh I just got out of a 2/3...
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I want a new heart.
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It feels pointless to say taking a page
from Ginsberg’s book because when am
I not?
I am a poet have I not eyes have I not
hands I give the same hands to my muse
that I give to my maker. The story will
sound the same from both mouths.
The mouth I gave to you and the mouth
you can’t have back unless you rise
from the grave inside of your
foolishness, your chest.
The...
I need a grandmother willow. Pocahontas had it so easy.
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I hated how’d you worry & felt
stifled by your umbrella, your not
quite questions & my never really
responses.
& now I sit barefoot in a courtyard
the sun is everything, the trees are everything
& I am feeling the opposite.
I know the difference between me
&
The earth is cold & it remembers
the sizzling heat of summer
it hated to sweat, but now
it...
I’m in Chicago.
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As I grow older, it gets easier for me to be fed up easily with things that can be good for me. It’s like I went from being really good at plucking off the dead ends/ troublesome weeds (my time is valuable), to plucking the good grass from the ground.
(not applicable to academic or work stuff, which I adore when it gets challenging).
Am I that cruel to myself that I’d rather lay...
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So, here’s mother’s day again and I’m an open wound. I’m glad no one who doesn’t know that already reads this.
But then again I’m also pretty sure no one reads this, but there’s something oddly comforting about transmitting code over long distances, long enough that it may get lost in the static somewhere. Then I’m part of something.
I’m...
The man who is the reason that I don’t partake in illicit substances died today. I’m sorry Uncle Stevie. May you find peace again in the cycle. All of my love to my family in Connecticut.
Adjustment disorder vs. reality check.
What a bust.
I’m just fed up.
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If she were alive and I called her right now, she’d stay on the phone with me for hours. She’d tell me she couldn’t live without me. That there’s so much she wants to see me accomplish. That she could wait to be a grandmother (oh, a long time) but she’d be excited for it and that I am so lovable even if I never feel that way. That I won’t have to be alone and...
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