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because i am in love
florid girls
where are the boys? that's a good fucking question
:thumb370036100: :thumb361477388:
:thumb370036100: :thumb361477388: feature
I'm a little hung up on that, seethere's a lot to be:thumb361836273:
said
for the minutes that i spend
sitting like an idiot
with the phone
to my ear
in silence
after you disconnect
Devious Journal Entrythe skin under the sunken eyes---eyes burrowed deep in the skull by sleep, and eyes sinkin in dreadfuls of water---is pebbly, purple, and thin.
and yet silent lips rasp and throats hum and pale skin gleams a feverish blue, saying yes, i may not be healthy, but i am not yet giving in .
one more knobble-knuckled finger pressing down a typekey or a string to the throat to the mouth of someone that loves you. one more stuttered laugh or epitaph or photograph, through a tea-strained cracked whispered voice, giving proof and asking for an alibi, asking please, please see, please love me, please see me and listen and cup the back of my neck like the wreck of the lip of your old favourite mug. i am still alive. i am still alive
NI was recorded
in clouds of ink, plumed amongst
seas
of paper;
a rogue
protostellar formation
floating in an abyss
of light.
(belated) DECLARATION OF NAPOWRIMO
because i'm sad and life is reaaaaaaal tricky lately and i'm either at work or in bed stressing about how i need to be at work.
money, money.
i haven't written a poem in a long time.
who else is participating this year?
The Truth, in a diary entry--
March begins strangely. I plan my life around the inevitable rejections of April. I fill out an application to be a substitute, I prepare a resume for TFA. I dream of scenarios of teaching in Hawaii, on the West Coast, in Northern America, in Florida. I plan my days around reading and writing, cooking and painting if I have the time, for the rest of the year.
A week ago I received an acceptance email from the University of Alaska, followed by a personalized email from Gerri Brightwell who urged me to contact her and fellow graduates with questions. Yesterday I received an email from the University of Arkansas informing me they’ve enjoy
reading my misspellings like, wow, i am uneducated
on a less serious and lighter note, i have secluded so far within myself that i don't face the same obstacles i did a year ago. may be in part due to joining a Facebook group for writers who are ATTEMPTING to do more but have yet to; or who have, and succeeded; who had, and failed, and soon after achieved. they're me without all the doubt; footings met with SUPPORT and confirmation that remind me my mindfuck is not an isolated inherited mutation, that failure is commonplace and OK. i've also found coffee shops (and tea, lots of black english breakfast) to be great motivators. ALSO i ordered a book off of HPB and it was cents! one of my favori
writing prose like
me: hm, maybe i should delete this part? not really necessary--
me: *deletes 90% of piece*
me: (: better
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Comments12
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red hair; i wholeheartedly agree.