If you stand us side by side I have more scars You have more lies. They’re both dark splotches running through our cores Whatever is like love is a synonym for war.
nope, my nails aren’t done
I’m not the girl who’ll get a manicure every week. Or month. That goes for my hair too. It’ll be free like my thighs on a sunny sunny day next to my friend’s pool, talking about pubic hair and thick tan masking tape (which I assume is what waxing feels like?) I don’t really do […]
I don’t know how to love
I don’t know how to love a little. What is this not giving all of myself? What is this lack of complete, bittersweet immersion – this absence of a smothered love, this freedom you speak of that love gives? I don’t understand. For me to choose love is to choose it all, and always – […]
Have you ever asked your god to make your heart a little smaller? Instead of giving you a space so big, that every time you cry you create oceans of pain, pooled around your bent knee. A smaller heart would mean that, maybe, every time a hand was clutched around it, the blood would not […]
where it comes from
I think poetry is what comes out of the bits inside of you who don’t know how to cry except through syllables.
I’m trying to reconstruct something which may or may not have been broken so if you can see the pieces, pick them up and if they were torn apart by invisible hands let’s stitch them together with visible words and comfort let’s love Us back into being.
How quickly laughter turns to weeping smiles to dust longing, to leaving sunset, to rust.