October 2011
4 posts
3 tags
44.
i don’t understand how to make conversation i really really don’t and the boy i might have known from somewhere at some point touches my shoulder softly and walks away. he is tall nonchalant half-smiling, and he is tall tall tall. i say ‘yeah, see you around’ a whole minute after he turns his back. i sit on some steps and pull at the loose skin around my fingernails because...
September 2011
33 posts
3 tags
43.
even though i hold grudges and you secretly hate me, when we make french toast at 1 AM and talk about how much we hate the world and how senselessly miserable we are, it is all okay somehow. you leave the dishes in the sink and i snap at you for something trivial and irrelevant, but it’s a haphazard kind of place, and we are haphazard kind of people. we are sitting on the only clean patch of...
3 tags
42.
i am lying in bed thinking about how nice it must be to float, to be completely perfect and empty, how in the end i want more stories than lovers. mostly i want to stay in one perfect position for one perfect second and watch the sunlight slant through the window onto my skin, until i am tipping the balance imperceptibly, leaning over imaginary edges so so slightly, just until the tips of my hair...
4 tags
41.
it’s disconcerting really, how you remember everything i’ve ever said, how i laughed that one day when we were walking past some expensive coffee shop and i said i wanted the pinkest fucking drink they had with a huge fluff of whipped cream on the top and i wanted to pay nearly six dollars for it and walk around the streets sipping it while bums leered at me and waved cardboard signs...
3 tags
40.
bare legs stretched out in the sun, yes we are very much alive, it’s warm, and it is close enough. hands tucked in back pockets all the same. faces turned to stoplights green and yellow and red, yes now go, go go go the colors are changing so that means we must move too. eyes on shop windows across the street, on the blue hem of a girl’s shifting skirt. we are very much all the same,...
2 tags
hey danger, hey desperation, when we’ve stopped running after leaving buses and stopped chasing after pretty words by pretty people and stopped stopping midway, we will wake up underground maybe, and learn how to retrace our steps and keep double time properly.
i realized it wasn’t because i was running too fast, it was that the ground didn’t stay underneath my feet for a long...
3 tags
“I love you to pieces, distractions, etc.”
– Franny & Zooey, by J.D Salinger (via tomthirst)
5 tags
39.
Stolen utensils heavy in my purse and little packets of sugar in your jean pockets, just because we liked stealing, liked tilting the sidewalks we stood on and gripping the dirt a little tighter with our heels. We’re changing, that’s what we’re doing, waking up a little and feeling our sleepy bones hum to life and pinch our skin tight with shaky laughter. Wonder and laugh at...
3 tags
38.
crimes of passion on our minds as we clutch our generic brand pill bottles. we don’t think about the things hidden behind our bathroom mirrors, and of course we don’t look back at the reflections of our almost lovers, flecked with toothpaste stains.
friction is keeping me going. or is it motion? loopholes, better fix those loopholes. i’m a loophole of a person, now just ignore...
3 tags
conversations, one-sided
well, in cosmic terms, some girl in my english class says.
and well, in cosmic terms, we are. we are? we are not. we look up at the night sky and only see patterns and look, there’s that star and that planet they have names and shit and we live on one of those things, a planet, don’t we? we live, don’t we? everything has a name and everything is numbered and everything orbits...
5 tags
37.
i think about those days when we used to trash talk in the laundry rooms on the second floor. we sat on the rusted benches giving serious, solemn looks to the people we didn’t recognize who dragged their clothes here, and then we gave each other serious, solemn looks. we talked about people we didn’t care about and people who didn’t care about us and the people who left us...
11 tags
3 tags
36.
sometimes on gray mornings, we looked out at lighthouses in the distance just to conjure up foggy white-tipped feelings that changed with the tides changed with our salty sighs. we practiced seeing out of one eye and standing on one foot and breathing out of one lung. we prepared ourselves for a sudden death, and swore against last goodbyes. hello, rather. hello, at last. we are seeing each other...
3 tags
we have a vague, aching kind of consciousness tied to our waists and outlining patterns in our skin. we try so hard to make fashion statements with our exaggerated sighs and melancholy gazes that we wore anywhere but our sleeves. we will not vanish, we won’t, even though we try to sometimes and only speak in tautologies and play the wrong chords and see the wrong signs written in the skies....
5 tags
35.
i fell in love underneath the yellowing trees and your falling hair, falling falling falling everywhere around your shoulders grazing your collar bones cupping your face. breathing machines and anthropomorphized human beings. you are also an invention, from lace and jump ropes and knots tied in the backs of dresses.
abandon all semblance of tense consistency, because we are, we were, we will be,...
6 tags
34.
self-inflicted papercuts running down my vital organs, subtly, secretly though, and i think i still have some time, i’m still holding up my two fingers trying to gauge distances, pretending everything can be blotted out with my thumb. close one eye, knuckles to your nose, and the sun is just a red haze peaking over your fingertips. corners, corners, corners, don’t ever look at the real...
4 tags
33.
Everything loses its glamour and lovely little plastic coating after a day, and what an absolutely catatonic day. I sat around trying to type up a lab report that didn’t sound like a melodrama and boarded up some windows and waited for you to casually stop by and come over because you just happened to be in the neighborhood and sort of kind of maybe wanted to see me. I don’t hope, I...
3 tags
32.
we’re all slow dancing under skyscrapers and writing poems the seven-digit kind on somebody else’s hand with not so permanent markers and watching people crisscross our lives leaving scrapes and dents and hollows.
girls in boots and summer dresses and boys tangled in large headphones. boys thinking about girls thinking about boys and girls thinking about life. girls thinking about...
4 tags
4 tags
31.
we’ll crash our shiny convertibles into the edge of the horizon and laugh at those silly people sitting behind windows because it’s okay, it’s all okay as long as we have the wind in our hair and the sky on our shoulders. we’ll line up our rainboots at the door and leave our dripping umbrellas on the steps as we outrun storms in a frenzy of self-realization in the form of...
1 tag
3 tags
it’s a lovely, but lonely kind of day. feelings, words all lining up down my spine. up? down? but that’s silly, i’m forever changing my mind, rearranging the things on my shelves, the mismatched ledges in my mind. alphabetical order, largest to smallest, date of publication—methodical ways to deny that you have humanity thrumming through your veins. nineteen years and...
2 tags
“In a real dark night of the soul it is always three o’clock in the morning, day...”
– F. Scott Fitzgerald (via thenocturnals)
3 tags
30.
Because in the end we are coincidental, we are incidental, accidental beings so it makes no sense at all for me to walk up and down that same street everyday, a huge book under my arms like always, hoping to run into you and your ironic little sneer. It doesn’t it won’t it can’t but I do and I always see you and you laugh at me and call me things and I have to hide my smiles in the crook of my...
5 tags
29.
I’m tired of puncturing holes in the underside of my palms just so I can breathe. Maybe it’s time I learned how to skip rocks properly. Will you still come by and visit me? When I’ve permanently moved to that place where the sky and the sea meet with a lingering touch of uncertain fingers and foamy skirts? When I’ve finally disappeared, along with all the rocks I’ve flung into the same water we...
4 tags
28.
I call everyone lovely and darling and Becca darling laughs uncomfortably. Hey baby let me read your palm for you, oh it’s just as I thought, that’s too bad, it seems you’re going to drop out of school and never get married, but baby girl I’m just full of shit, let’s get married okay? You want to? Let’s go, okay? I have an empty red cup in my hand and I’m wearing a dress that’s tight and black and...
2 tags
3 tags
27.
I mouthed the words today. The words I’m not supposed to say, ever.
Is it today yet? Tell me when it’s today, will you? I’m trying as hard as I can, I’m diligently crossing out all the little boxes, but we just keep missing each other, me and this today. We were supposed to meet at a street corner at 3:00 and secretly glance at each other over the tops of our newspapers. Nod in acknowledgement,...
3 tags
26.
My mom said my arms looked thinner. But that’s because these days all I consume is coffee and plastic pen caps. I wonder just how much ink I’ve swallowed in French class alone. Backwards poems in my stomach and upside-down run-on sentences run-on paragraphs down my esophagus. Now there’s an idea—run run run, oh if only. But if I look down and quietly chew my pens, it’s okay. I’ll get through...
