Feb 2015
It's been getting worse.
6am was open for sinners but 10 was closed for repairs. Imagine the disappointed frowns drinking coffee reading regretful emails.
The afternoon sun hurt my head, I miss your cave.
In my bed, pillows over your ears and eyes.
12 pm was better but 2 was embarrassing.
I hate to leave like that. I never want us to be mad at each other.
Crying at the kitchen table, no it's not you.
Calling myself an idiot in the car for routinely missing turns.
The mall wasn't crowded but it felt like it was. No dresses fit for the wedding tomorrow. Staring at a red scarf listening to Burning Down the House over the loudspeaker at Dillards and feeling my eyes in my head and wondering if David Byrne ever dreamed he would have songs playing over the loudspeaker at Dillards.
You shouldn't have done that to yourself. I'm sorry I suggested it.
It's ok, it's not you.
It must have been 50 or more dresses. Four hours.
This has been the worst day.
We've been talking about this for a long time. Sitting at the kitchen table, ugh, boys.
Smoking through the window.
My great grandmother made my *** my pants when I was eleven because she was cursing the door she couldn't unlock.
I once saw someone lose a prosthetic leg while riding a roller coaster.
TJ had a cat named Rodney.
We found burn holes in her mattress when we moved in. All her stuff was still there.
Reconfirming value, standing in front of the mirror in wedding clothes. Red heels. A white scarf to a wedding that doesn't belong to me.
It's ok, it's not you.
Nick started talking about what he's going to say for our wedding.
I told him not to worry about it, I don't have any idea what I'm going to say at his.
Cigarettes in the cold. Adderall and ZzzQuil and Dr. Who prints on Etsy printed on old dictionary pages. The world is falling away.
Write a poem.
3:17am is open for sinners.
It's been getting worse.
6am was open for sinners but 10 was closed for repairs. Imagine the disappointed frowns drinking coffee reading regretful emails.
The afternoon sun hurt my head, I miss your cave.
In my bed, pillows over your ears and eyes.
12 pm was better but 2 was embarrassing.
I hate to leave like that. I never want us to be mad at each other.
Crying at the kitchen table, no it's not you.
Calling myself an idiot in the car for routinely missing turns.
The mall wasn't crowded but it felt like it was. No dresses fit for the wedding tomorrow. Staring at a red scarf listening to Burning Down the House over the loudspeaker at Dillards and feeling my eyes in my head and wondering if David Byrne ever dreamed he would have songs playing over the loudspeaker at Dillards.
You shouldn't have done that to yourself. I'm sorry I suggested it.
It's ok, it's not you.
It must have been 50 or more dresses. Four hours.
This has been the worst day.
We've been talking about this for a long time. Sitting at the kitchen table, ugh, boys.
Smoking through the window.
My great grandmother made my *** my pants when I was eleven because she was cursing the door she couldn't unlock.
I once saw someone lose a prosthetic leg while riding a roller coaster.
TJ had a cat named Rodney.
We found burn holes in her mattress when we moved in. All her stuff was still there.
Reconfirming value, standing in front of the mirror in wedding clothes. Red heels. A white scarf to a wedding that doesn't belong to me.
It's ok, it's not you.
Nick started talking about what he's going to say for our wedding.
I told him not to worry about it, I don't have any idea what I'm going to say at his.
Cigarettes in the cold. Adderall and ZzzQuil and Dr. Who prints on Etsy printed on old dictionary pages. The world is falling away.
Write a poem.
3:17am is open for sinners.
It's been getting worse.
