writing: literary suicide note

There was no newness to anything anymore. She sat in the house and waited for people to be finished; she sat on the couches and watched the clouds pass over the fields outside the windows; the windows were perpetually dirty, smudged sometimes when the cats shoved their homesick faces against the glass and mostly smudged… Continue reading writing: literary suicide note

poem: emo song where the boy saves the girl, actually

alternatively titled: "buffy, season six" i am New York in the window,i am Paris in the glass.can you find me, i amlaughing—can you find me,i won’t last.cities in the stardustmake shit inside my head,can i sleep with Prague?with the adolescent-dead?the boys are saving nothingthe boys are going madi am just an illnesspathetic, never had.can you… Continue reading poem: emo song where the boy saves the girl, actually

poem: East Egg

there is a green light shining in the outside of myself, I am a woman, twenty years old. I would like to say I am living in Paris, waking up to men who keep dried flowers pressed between Proust, their lips wet before the cigarette and after sex; when I take my black umbrella and… Continue reading poem: East Egg

poem: happiness

I know good things take time—but I wish we were already at the part where he is texting me 'goodnight' and I am waking up with his breath on my back— that we already owned the studio apartment, the kitchen window looking out on cafés and city alleys, the baby in the living room and… Continue reading poem: happiness