FIREWORKS.

Fireworks In February

We filled the house with smoke

&

 our glasses with champagne,

on a cold Monday in February.

.

champagne/no pain

THE MOVIES.

12:43 PM on Friday the 12th

I remember a time when your boxers took up all the space in my underwear drawer. I remember a time, when you would come home at the crack of dawn, hands of ice all over my body. I felt like we were in a city of “US” and all the lights were so alluring, so pretty, distracting us both from flags of the color red. But who is to notice red when you are covered in sheets of white.

I close my eyes, some time after noon, my lids doubling as projector screens. A matinee. Steam hitting the kitchen window, you’re making meat; the humidity shaping black baby curls around your face, the heat. The neighbors must have thought our love was titanic, all the steam on all the windows. 

You always told me the movies were not real;

But I loved them anyway.

TWENTY FOUR.

24 HAS COMPLETELY MIND FU*KED ME

I realize I am no longer a girl but a woman “nesting” in a one bedroom apartment, with no diamond, no child, and no man which I find most women yearning for, which at age 16 to 23 seemed like a fuc*in dream to me too. Lately, instead of counting the minutes on my fertility clock I spend hours pondering all the reasons why I shouldn’t smash the shit out of it; Becoming fully aware there are no chains binding me to anything or anyone, I no longer see the perfect partner, the perfect place to settle, or the mini-me that at one time I so badly yearned for. The childbearing hips still reside, but no child. I see me, alone, in many unfamiliar places just passing through. I fantasize about beautiful faces I will soon encounter. I day-dream of their stories, lust for life and thirst for adventure quite like mine.

   

I then think of all the relationships I’ve lived in, trying to change that person's hair into the waves of the ocean, their eyes the stars I longed to gaze elsewhere, their body mountains I’d only wish to climb. Blaming them for not fulfilling my needs, blaming them for being human. Blaming myself for never being able to settle. At age 24, I’ve learned that the fulfillment I’ve been looking for is no longer in just one mind, one body, or one person for that matter, but in myself and myself alone.  

I am starving for new scenery and an intellectual conversation opposed to carbs and calories.  I am sick with an extreme case of the travel bug when the ones around me are in bed with the common cold. I sit here with symptoms of angst and freedom fever. I now pinch my pennies in hopes that Abraham Lincoln may sympathize with me, and teach me self-restraint along side wisdom to pursue this new life long journey.

“In the end, its not the years in your life that counts. It’s the life in your years.”

-Good Ole Abe Himself

BEYOND ME.

Some nights,

I felt as if you looked right through me.

I was there, 

but what was yearned for was beyond me.

..

Love(n): A compilation of ones emotions

my thoughts at 1:33 am on the 1st of December

TWIGS.

Maybe the beauty of abandonment, 

 is temporarily being able to fill something.

we shared the sunset, 

in bedrooms they use to fuck in. 

Dirty Nostaliga.

the sky was colored n' shaped like cotton candy...

leaving our imaginations to starve.

once again starving, for what isn't anymore.

full of the temporary bullshit.

AN ANIMAL.

I just remember the sun, and the way it kissed her face;

sweeter than any man had ever done.

for a minute she forgot she was alone.

...

the wind came, 

drawing tears.

beneath an animal, an animal.

sunflowers; pretty dead, pretty alive

GLASS & GRAFFITI.

You see, 

there was glass and graffiti.

Piles of empty spray cans.

Two little boys,

peeking through sharp windows.

I imagine... 

the echo of each of our footsteps,

sent shivers down their spines.

truth: the government hates you