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Sag May 2017
AGh

**** I JUST WANT TO SCREAM IT IN YOUR FACE
YOU DESERVE THE ******* WORLD
OPEN YOUR EYES
STOP BURYING YOUR WORTH BENEATH HER SKIN
Sag May 2017
I miss the poetry of it all
not just reading it, of course that too,
but feeling it, the romance of a paper cut from the opening of a bottle of red wine called "california dreams"
showering and the light switch turning off, a thoughtful gesture, sending waves of comfort and oblivion
watching hands conducting folk songs  in the front seat
laying on roof tops, recreating ideas from Tar Beach
I'm yearning for that youthful prose I used to write about all the time
feels like ages ago
Sag Apr 2017
agh
I forgot what it was like to be around her, i'm so used to being in the company of lighter souls.
The heaviness is starting to sink back into my bones.
The day turns to darkness, and back to dawn soon, and sleep still hasn't come because the battle between eyelids scanning screens and the inside of themselves proved to be easier than you'd think.

You made me forget that I didn't have a green thumb
You were the green thumb, you are the green thumb
and you're still around, you're still here, but not in the dark,
only when i've got the sunshine anyway, because you are the sunshine
and **** i'm not a flower when I'm alone and looking in the mirror at a single silhouette

I knew I was ****** when I started looking for my skeleton again

The truth is you hardly know these bones, you helped to hide them, heal them.

But every moment I spend with my thoughts brings them out more

They aren't necessarily bad, but I don't know who I am
I know what I want, who I want, who I want to be,
but who am I at one in the morning when I slip back into watching
dramas about people with OCD and anorexia and I find myself crying and wishing there was another skeleton for me hold on to...
one thats not mine.


****, I'm even writing again... That's a sign too.
Sag Apr 2017
This morning I watched a tiny baby bird take its last little breath, his chest puff out and then settle, his feathers lay flat and his head tilted back and his feet curled up underneath himself
a fatal game of cat and mouse, and the mouse chirped from under the kitchen table and with every yell the clench of the felines jaw tightened and if I could bring anyone back from the dead, it would be that little bird.
so soft and vulnerable, sleeping black and white in my pale palms.
I know its in his nature to hunt, but its in my nature to love, and this bird was so worthy, worthy of flying and seeing the sky and finding worms and maybe in the mornings he would have sang me awake and come to perch on my bird feeder, but war is an age old tale that continues on and nature has a way of being cruel
I can't stop picturing his little body, his tiny heart that probably loved as much as a baby bird could
I can't stop creating metaphors out of this scenario
where sometimes i'm the baby bird, and sometimes, i'm the cat.
and I hope that my foolish games and tendency to play never takes away the opportunity for happiness from anyone
I never want to be the cat, but I also never want to be the baby bird.
But I'll never want to be happy off the backs of another, and that's enough to make me choose the bird if the tables were turned.
Sag Apr 2017
He called me his little orchid, and I pictured him admiring me, all of my colors and twists, my petals and my stem, exclaiming "look at this one! look how beautiful it is! look at the inside, do you see how amazing that is?" and I smiled and swooned and swayed like the little orchids would in the wind and I blushed so hard you'd think I lost my chlorophyll, or that summer was coming to an end, and I wanted to sing like an orchestra of brass and wood winds because the thought of you thinking of me and still seeing me as precious as a flower after all these winters we've seen makes my heart beat and plucks my strings.
I want you to know that you're still sun, my air, my water, and the soil that my roots are planted in. Even in the winter, I only think of the times you shone brightest and eagerly wait for you to smile again.
I know it feels like winter for you right now, but it's spring baby, and I'm growing!
I'm not a bean stalk, I can't take you to the top, but I'm your little orchid, and hopefully,
you'll look over at the one on your window sill and smile knowing that some part of me is growing right there next to you, breathing and taking in everything you're giving me.

So when you're bored, water me, and talk to me, and it might help you breathe a little lighter too.

From one flower to another, I love you.
Sag Mar 2017
I drink the quickest when I'm alone
Coincidentally that's also when I love the hardest
Wishing you were all here to listen to your hearts and
I still get waves of missing you
when I play songs on the guitar and
nostalgia makes me smile but in the morning my heart will harden
Sag Mar 2017
Things are changing for me, although the seasons this year seemed to not have.
The city of New Orleans will soon have my heart wandering in her streets, and I'll be miles away trying to determine where they lead.
My mistakes are catching up with me and I'll be forced to face the consequences I once always seemed to retread from.
I'm unsure of which the way the wind is blowing, I could never use my thumb to tell,
but I hope it's in the uplifting direction,
dancing in women's skirts, playing leap frog with the leaves, rolling through the sails of some small ship floating out at sea, humming in the giant chimes of city park's oak tree.

I just hope that when you leave, you take the wind inside my soul and carry it into spring.
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