#include <iostream> i will just rewrite things nicely inside me and rewire the currents and de-bug the code so that int main () { he was not my second love or the first boy he was just he was just endl; he was nothing. he was a flux of my self-projection and a tightly labeled… Continue reading poem: c++ [i do not write love poems anymore]
Tag: love
poem: all this is [now] redundant
everytime i hear footsteps i think it is [him] but i look up and of course i am wrong he does not belong to me [anymore] so why am i waiting for him to come back to me. there is too much grey in tiled hearts i am just bored i am a female anomaly… Continue reading poem: all this is [now] redundant
poem: the fiction, after
i intend to make the most of this heartbreak and to see your shadowed face slipping by in every man who walks briskly through the rain and to see you in every false memory and to see you laying naked next to me with our hands between the cigarette smoke and then later the door… Continue reading poem: the fiction, after
poem: foolish games
i won't tell you his name but it's very beautiful still inside my mouth and i could have civilized him and brought that innocence softness of him into everyday candlelight. the places where i go, now, are only places where he smiled at me once but all is fiction and idealized in this locked box… Continue reading poem: foolish games
poem: clichés at nineteen
the light shifted grey down over her face she did not put herself into crying she just sat on her bed and laughed at the irony of it all. that nothing had really changed that her only romance was chemical (the dopamine he triggered in her psychotic ticking brain). she's over him now, anyway. let… Continue reading poem: clichés at nineteen
poem: stop hoping and stop hurting
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
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
writing: untitled november 2018
him: so. her: hi. him: do you want to marry me? her: her: i barely know you. him: so? her: when you come over and say hi to me when i'm working part of me wants to ask you to go buy me a coffee because i'm always tired and i'm dying for a coffee.… Continue reading writing: untitled november 2018
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: 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
the last pavilion 