Wednesday, June 23, 2010

she lives far, somewhere. i do not know.

ugh. very much not wanting to slip back into my old skin. but things make me mad. us on the same page shakes me makes me want to break.
things.
i wish you had caught me. like your eyes did. your heart, your soul.
i wish you had caught me.

total life forever

There is a place I've decided to come to. A place not too far from where I live, where the fountain waters try to reach the sky, and sounds of waste in the gutter run free. A distant truck passes. Lightning gleams pink behind the now-departing clouds. No cops, no CCTV, no white lines. Just plain tar and shrubs planted evenly next to each other. No one wants to kill me here. No one wants my fire hydrant personality. I am neither thin, nor curvy. I am private. The wind makes the tips of the water pirouette.
11:59pm.
12:00am.
Just as the last of my cigarette is inhaled, as if someone is watching, the fountains are turned off.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

'10

summer nights that smell of baby diapers and burnt bark. contemplating whether to turn the key or not.
the wind in the hair.
the empty feeling of where your hand used to be.
the wind in the hair.

Saturday, June 19, 2010

coffee shop thoughts (on the back of a receipt)

will my daughter remember things I've told her throughout the course of her life, like I've retained what my mother told me?
It's not a bustling evening, just a few people including my father and i. an old couple, a father and his young son, a young man on his laptop. we just wanted to get out, do something cuz we were so bored. i'm in pjs and socks. playing with the silver chain you gave me, sla. This couch is comfortable, my nails are purplish-black. i scrounge for inspiration and father didn't let me bring his camera. 'it's called art, and i shall indulge in it because i can'. he rolls his eyes.
it's sunny.
last year, this time...things were different because it was eons ago.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

an excerpt.

It was hard to picture him. Outside, a man laughed; she could hear the drone of someone's TV. She looked up at the sky, which opened over the motel, an untroubled, improbable pink. She turned on her side, bent her knees, slipped her hands between them. Inside her, a door shut firmly against any thoughts, and she felt a dizzy, empty happiness at being here, nowhere, alone at last.

-For Love, by Sue Miller

Saturday, June 12, 2010

daddy's analysis

'you know how to carry your baggage and get out of the airport, asap'.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Dear Old Pond

I'm sitting here with 2 silver cameras and an old notebook. They are telling me about your empty waters and about a box that forgot to keep the earrings in itself.

Tuesday, June 08, 2010

skulduggery

the angel sang to a crowd of millions. Only two colors existed in the world that night, white and black, of which she was the former. Her wings were the speakers, and your ears.