for as long as I can remember
I have wanted my life to be like a movie
even in pre-school I remember dancing alone
in my ballerina outfit
hoping my crush would show up and be blown away
and fall in love with me
so I waited impatiently to be a teenager
when life is like all the movies i'd seen
and it was-
trashing rich kid's houses
falling in love on the beach
being high at the football games
falling in love with a fifteen year old alleged coke dealer
all the tropes
the thing is
I never grew out of that desire
I still want it to be just like a movie
perfect and tied neatly and never boring
but it's not that way
why do I feel like real life is not good enough?
too much meds exposure?
an inkling for escapism, rooted in my parents' divorce
the privilege of a growing up with few enough financial struggles that they were able to be concealed from you
the escapism from the years you blacked out
it wasn't alcoholism that tore my parents apart-
they both overcame a huge struggle
and, as highly developed beings,
still couldn't experience love forever
did they just choose someone with values that's alignment altered?
anyway I love ___ and I love ___ and I love ___
all in a day's work
and I appreciate ___ for his contributions
Oct 19, 2022
Oct 19, 2022 at 1:02 AM UTC
he thought he was supposed to be a rapper
or a writer
or a gangster
a multi millionaire in some capacity
and maybe it was true
he always talked about leaving a legacy
because he wanted to live forever and couldn't figure out how
but you leave a legacy when someone loved you
like I did
you leave a legacy when an artist loved you
like I did
because you're in my songs
and you're in every other love I've ever had
it's all connected
maybe people aren't that special
or maybe it makes them more special
because each person you meet is an opportunity to connect with the whole world
and the divine
I think I have accepted that I miss the touch
I miss it enough to make a change
if a love is real they will accept you for who you are
but I'm not worried that that doesn't exist for me
I know it does
so I must be scared of something else
I think I'm scared to give up on my dreams
because I don't know what they are
and trying to hold onto them is like reaching for a bundle of a dozen
invisible balloons
I thought I was supposed to be a singer
a writer
an actress
a director
an artist in some capacity
never cared to be a multi millionaire
but I didn't realize what being broke felt like
it feels like running on a treadmill
it feels like using your breath to inflate a dozen invisible balloons as they pop as they expand
and I want to go back to england
and I want to move to new york
and I want to give it all up and live on the beaches
and I want to stay right here in Tennessee forever
and I think I want to do it alone
but I don't want to go insane
I'm not too worried of what people will think
of a girl who spends their whole twenties alone
I'm worried what it will do to me
but im worried what a relationship will do to me more
the first fear its gaining
and I think it's more reliable
because frost slept on the road most traveled
the road more often travelled
but I guess I can take comfort in that poem
he said it made all the difference
in a good way I can only assume
Sep 3, 2022
Sep 3, 2022 at 12:28 AM UTC
I wish I could've gone to your lake house
I really wanted to
Dec 25, 2021
Dec 25, 2021 at 10:12 PM UTC
I came to the parlor alone
Upon walking in, I saw Tom Baggel with a blonde date in the leather shoe store
Avoiding eye contact, I dashed past the phone kiosk and the closetway into the sunroom
Where I sat on a wooden stool and stared at the garden through the misty window
Remembering the first night I ever came to this godforsaken place
It was ages ago
Alaina and I attended a party in this very garden
We left our bottle of watered-down whipped-cream-flavored Smirnoff
In a very tall Cypress tree
And spent a drunken hour trying to shake it down
Alaina, always a diplomat, was so upset about the loss of our dear lord and savior ***** bottle
That she kicked over the angel statue at the base of the tree
And that poor angel lived the rest of its days will only one wing
The sunroom is such a peaceful place to collect your thoughts alone
It is not frequented by clientele and it has moldy mattresses scattered around on the floor
Sometimes there’s a drunken sailor sleeping there
But you don’t have to worry about him talking to you
He won’t ask you questions about the weather or the neighbor’s new dog
At most he will ask you to fill up his glass with the fountain of red wine on the windowsill
And if you say no he will go back to sleep
The glittering laughter of party girls poured in like an avalanche through the closetway
There was no reason for me to turn my head
I already knew who they were
They were exactly who I wanted them to be
But that didn’t change the fact that I wished they were anywhere but here
They gathered me up in their rose petal arms
And sang me some terrible song about the bright pink light inside of me
Until I had to wriggle out of their arms like some lovesick worm
Until I needed fresh air
Out in the misty garden I shared a damp cigarette with Tom
I wanted to be alone again but I was glad he was there
He didn’t have to ask me why I came to the parlor alone
And I didn’t have to ask him about his blonde date in the leather shoe store
I already knew exactly who she was
But that didn’t change the fact
That he wasn’t in the mood
For vitamins and lemon tea
For a good night sleep
For a morning walk
People don’t come to the parlor for that sort of thing
Mar 3, 2021
Mar 3, 2021 at 8:54 PM UTC
mugwort dreams
can you remember?
snakes on the trees
yellow, pink, and green
you're sat there in between the trees
just like the moon
blue and unassuming
Mar 2, 2021
Mar 2, 2021 at 11:34 PM UTC
Meet me out on St. John's Terrace
Where the misty rain pervades
Where the city's distant
And the sky forever shades
Your eyes are soft and cloudy
Through the periwinkle haze
But I could see them sparkle
From a dozen towns away
Feb 28, 2021
Feb 28, 2021 at 10:17 PM UTC
I just realized
all my poems are about you
and in them
you’re always falling in love
with someone else
even in my dreams
I never let it be me
Mar 26, 2020
Mar 26, 2020 at 7:43 PM UTC
let's all get together by the campfire
and talk about the amazing things
we would do for each other
in some theoretical world
where we are the ones that need
things to be done
Mar 26, 2020
Mar 26, 2020 at 7:14 PM UTC
all I want is something real
a drug I'm not too numb to feel
a burning wave, the summer rain
the fire I used to know
a burning kiss runs through my veins
perfect poison, pleasure, pain
and just like that I'm up in flames
for you, and you alone
Mar 8, 2020
Mar 8, 2020 at 7:06 PM UTC
two figures appear in the midnight blue air
in the slick metallic silence of the nightworld
where breezes materialize into sound
but nothing to fear
still only two figures
sorry for jumping like a cottontail
i thought i heard somebody
it was nineteen eighty eight
a black and white world of possibility
is centered sweetly on the vast rosewood
a red gown drips down the ivory
while the second figure
distracts himself from the massacre
i thought i heard somebody singing in the other room
but it was just my voice in my head
burning yet another red
sweet transparency of the small walled studio
we would live on the eighty eighth story
i can see the hudson from here
better yet i can see the ghost of everyone
there’s a certain silence
only present in cold clean white sheets
when you’re lonely too
i thought i heard somebody screaming in the other room
but it was just my bones
getting used to the growing forgetfulness
the bleak and black
two figures huddle under a silk umbrella
there is a smell of wet dirt
and out of the ground comes a little worm looking thing
upon a close and careful look i saw it’s small swivelling ghost
i thought i heard somebody crying in the other room
but it was just the wind
creeping through every crevice at the worst time
May 2, 2019
May 2, 2019 at 12:14 AM UTC