February 2012
13 posts
do not underestimate my heart’s capacity for pain. i tear my eyelashes out and lay them along the window frame, one by one, and spell out your name for the rising sun. no there isn’t any part of this that’s easy, but maybe that’s the point. maybe that is testament to the person you were. i remember sitting front row, staring at your casket, so many sympathetic hands and...
i sat on the floor and cried. my mind was flooded with so many thoughts, things i can’t make sense of. things i don’t ever think i’ll make sense of. i can’t stand the thought of you with or without her. i can’t stand the thought of you with someone else. the cards this life has left out for us, well. they aren’t cards i’d care to give to anybody. so, make...
sometimes i want to write about oceans and wanderlust, but most times it just gets stuck in my teeth. who am i without you? it’s a question that’s best left unanswered, a question best left to gather dust at the foot of my bed. sometimes i feel like im writing the same words over and over. but i guess im doing a pretty good job. i know people who have lived beautiful lives with the...
her face is biscuit-plain and her hair is always a mess. why do you love me, she whispers when he’s sleeping. why do you love me, when i cannot love myself?
im awake too early.
you couldn’t sleep last night, so you woke me up, needing me to calm you down. you had worked yourself into a panic so i made the right sounds and talked you down from the ledge in your mind until we both drifted off.
now i’ve stirred and i can’t sleep. i lay next to you in silence, waiting for the sun to rise. i guess it’s symbolic of the little...
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January 2012
24 posts
it was the middle of a wet nothing morning, when i was hit in the stomach with the memory of an american summer. the smell of new york city and that forever moving heat pushing past us, palms out against yellow cabs and the faceless. i was so young and so wide open to everything. i can’t remember everything we said, but i remember her blonde hair mixing with mine on borrowed pillow cases. i...
i listen to you talk through walls. your voice always makes my belly turn to dust. there’s something about you that makes my bones melt to warm milk. your wide shoulders and my small hands all over them. it’s you and it’s only you. it’s never been anyone before you. i’ve never decorated my heart, never hung up another lover over my mantle. not like this, not like now....