10.18.18

If
we decide what we’ll do
and who we’ll do it with,
listen as I tell you:
I’ve always wanted you.

I’d wear all your blame to
taste your name
again.

I’d bear all your shame
to feel the same
again.

9/06/18

I’m a long way from the ocean.
For salty air,
I renounce my despair
and end up among the waves.
I can’t whisk away
every time I have day.
Some days, I’m alone,
even though you promised I would
never be.

-how do I stand beside you when you’re always at the ocean?

8.01.18

I have the heart of a musician but cannot stay in key to save my life. For years, I was distraught knowing there is a passion that I cannot fulfill, but then I met you. I have the heart of a musician; I hope he doesn’t want it back.

-the right key

7.09.18

He says that I have been making so many metaphors that I am starting to look like one.
I fall in love with those words, before asking for an example.
“Which metaphor am I becoming?”
And to my dismay, he can’t think of a single example.
It seems I’m always intrigued by the ones that say the right things,
but I’m also a sucker for things in writing:
the details.
Right now I am sitting in my car and wondering to myself:
Do I want someone who thinks of me as art
or
Do I want someone who makes me into art?

-the specifics

4.26.18

In case you were wondering, I finally cleaned the yellow glass lantern off my bathroom floor. I learned to love that metaphor, but not as much as the relief of trashing each broken piece. Today, two similar -yet unique in color- lanterns reside in the same place. They hold light and I’m sure they won’t break anytime soon.

I hope they won’t.

-more than a metaphor // refer to 12.03.17 

4.25.18

Ripped, retro, ready,
she slips into her kicks.
You see, girls used to be pretty in pink…and heels, and
whatever else they say-
but today continues a new age:
one where rules are made to be broken and
fashion is whatever feels best on your skin.
My momma always says,
“Never leave the house without lipstick.”
I used to laugh before I realized:
some rules are not spoken to be broken-
and your momma is almost always right.

-pretty in pink lipstick