It’s too cold today.Too cold to grindthe sleep from my eyesand rise.Outside,I see life suspendedin crystalized ice.Inside,I am swirled in a snowglobe,a tiny frozen breathcurling back to sleep.
I starved myself down to the marrow in the narrow hope that my demons would find these bones to skinny to lick clean. Oh, but these monsters found rooms in my ribs and homes in my heart to languish fed fat on despair.
The second time a boy told me he loved me I was 13.“I love u,” my phone buzzed, my head buzzed, New feelings, no end. “Love u 2,” I responded, deciding just then. Said perhaps because a reject’s a punch or that the words “Facebook official” gave me someone at lunch to sit near, knees touching, electrically aware. And there, we held hands sometimes, […]
I curled my leaves and starved myself to the root to deny the pain of blooming, to pollute. and what I found was that the sun didn’t shine much light and the flowers didn’t look as bright and the earth didn’t taste just right and I learned that the sun needs me and the flowers […]
We want to believe that if we set our intentions to develop into the sort of people we need to see in the world, that life, or the universe, or whatever, will resonate with the precise tools and opportunities needed to do so, to facilitate the love and learning– this learning to be human– this connection we crave so badly in our beautiful little lives. And if you’d asked yourself six months […]
a plant’s roots, pot-bound, grow to the shape of that which kills it gnarled comfortably below the surface. plant me in the garden where I may feel the sun and rain though I’ll bear the scorch and storm. these hungry wild vines of mine were meant to spread.
You dropped out of a tree into my path, a shiny acorn, and I, not yet a sapling. How could I have known then how our branches were destined to grow together?
It’s only a mile down the road, you said, you were wrong, five miles later in that summer sun, turned around twice, footpaths veering downhill, that can’t be right, I’m sorry, you said,let’s try again– When we left the house that morning I’d asked what to wear– you said I’d be fine in that blue dress I liked so long it sweeps my feet, you were wrong, legs […]
I have an answer but like I really don’t know what my plans are, thanks for asking, but also, like, if I paid attention to myself for half a minute I would discover I do know the answer but what I want feels impossible because we’re all so deluded by this idea that what you do as in your work is the most important thing about you and not what you […]
unfurl those arms and legs so wide they wrap around the whole world and gather it up– soft as crushed velvet and as easily as a lover.