stop hoping and stop hurting get out of your head and accept the very aesthetic and terrible life of always being alone. i guess i look good in black, anyway, even if it's always metaphorical (i can't sell myself so cheaply, sorry). but there is truth in the long singular days of staring out the… Continue reading poem: stop hoping and stop hurting
Tag: life
poem: the boy after the anime
if you pulled my dna out in lace like coffee you'd find a girl who cries over anime and foreign boys and has you like a dream under her eyelids. careful, my mother said: it is a thing women do they make these blossoming fantasies where the boy leaves kisses up the side of my… Continue reading poem: the boy after the anime
poem: light snow
in her head he brings her coffee and a small smile, which he places just before her as something young and fragile and maybe delicate. she bites her lips when she smiles back, the cold november in the crinkly spaces of her mittens that scrunch into his black gloves when he takes her hand and… Continue reading poem: light snow
poem: dear 2018
shall i tell you of my womanhood and the unpopular things that leave me sitting alone at parties, the 1960's splashed angrily in my face, and my hands now wet with mascara tears. but i am still not going to graduate school and i still don't want my entire life boxed into a career. i… Continue reading poem: dear 2018
poem: grey early afternoon
i think about him all the time. all of him and what he represents he is in me like smoke and rain even when i don't want him. it is early afternoon and foggy: i am trying but he is still inside me
poem: 1:42 a.m.
i make up all the wonderful things he says to me i think he fell into my mouth or maybe my mind and he only came out fictional. i think staring at my black dorm window is unproductive, as if all the lovers are merely out there and waiting like saints in the smoke, while… Continue reading poem: 1:42 a.m.
poem: why won’t people look me in the eyes
why won't people look me in the eyes what is so wrong with me that only ghosts ask 'are you okay.' and even they are grimacing at me, thinking oh this one is certainly sub-human certainly not worth what we give out as cash-currency because she [and this is where even i cannot insert the… Continue reading poem: why won’t people look me in the eyes
poem: the first boy
his eyes are sparkling liquid chocolate brown. a cliché description but when he looks over at her and whispers something anti-institutional her fingers want all of the excited energy clenched into his profile and the softness that comes when he speaks to her alone, purely as academics, of course, and as fellow students in a… Continue reading poem: the first boy
poem: the second boy
with a desperately quick--"wait"--! in the golden brown bricked coffee house with her hair curling over her eyes and her palms warmed to perfect cosmopolitan happiness by hands cupping coffee & hands cupping at fragile hopes which already written themselves into great chronicles in her soul: she can already see them: friends, first, then maybe… Continue reading poem: the second boy
update: things are not so terrible
So as you might have noticed, I am posting less now. We'll call this a good thing because I started this blog because I felt like my poetry skills were dying. Thankfully, they have been restored to me (#depression-is-useful), and I'm back to scribbling down poetry in all my notebooks like I was in highschool.… Continue reading update: things are not so terrible
the last pavilion 