and i never said a word unless i knew you’d fix me after with your tongue. your hair honey-brown, split ends. maple syrup in your coffee. your stupid friends and their back porch, the folding chairs sticky with cocktail syrup. you kissed him but stared at me while you did it, hands scrunching the front of his button-up.Continue reading “you’re always talking”
i cut my hair because
my forensic anthropology professor said our past is in our bodies. not in a metaphorical sense. if i go for a walk tonight and end up strangled on the side of the highway the scientists will find my skull, high bun attached to it. analyze the dna of hair strands: you’ll know where someone has set foot over the years. Continue reading “i cut my hair because”
all that macaroni and glitter- hide yourself in the box, in the corner. comfortable?
summer with moms
a loaded gun, a cocked question
who are you doing and when
sweet 16 (essays on copulation)
he came on the kitchen floor.
the lighting was all wrong. only thing i remember, afterwards, how he turned his head away and flared his nostrils and commented on the building burning down around us. i must’ve left the oven on. Continue reading “sweet 16 (essays on copulation)”
it’s not rhetorical, i’m asking, when you look into my eyes is anyone home? Continue reading “april 27”
a list of
things that would hurt you if i tried to explain them and i’m done with that. hurting you.
(alternatively: things you’ll never understand about me even if you tried. this may breed resentment.)
summer before senior year
There are only two things to do in this town: bone or spend your dad’s money. Sometimes the two aren’t mutually exclusive.
what counts is i am not a victor- i am losing
but i’m writing it all down, all the chasing, the confusion
all the bruises and the ruins
she can’t love me, okay- moving
on means going faster
(i avoided a disaster)
and i’ll stay up all night
writing lines to make it matter Continue reading “the verge”
*Gratuity included in price*
u up? (7)
A classic opener, devoid of taste. Lasts a minute or so. Purple socks. Continue reading “Cafe Amore”