dedicated to the three girls who entered my life this year, and have forever changed it. we bundled under blankets of compliments no need for men addicted to coffee and tea we talked about the sky, changing the world books, poetry we winged our eyeliner we danced to our favorite indie music painting watercolors on… Continue reading lost girls.
you never plan to live your life broken and torn, it just happens, nothing changes except everything. and, people are telling you're not what they expected when they see you after ten years. you wonder if you should take that offensively, but you just smile and brush it off. the house you live in has new creaks in… Continue reading nothing changes, except everything…
no one ever approves, everyone shakes their head, and gives their reasons, never listens to yours, doesn't validate your feelings, too young. too dumb. too naïve. blind girl, with your head in the clouds, snap out of it. to hell with you, i love the clouds. and, i swear i will touch the sky one… Continue reading approval.
We were normal girls. We fell in love with boys, recklessly, hopelessly, and constantly. She would cry tears of mascara and glittery eyeshadow on the steps. And, we'd swear off them as if they were drugs. And, maybe they were, because we always found ourselves falling again. We worried about our bodies. We pinched our… Continue reading normal girls.
Picket fence girl. Board straight, with your heart in a tangle, your boy is saying he loves you, and you're happy aren't you? you're high school sweet hearts, stuck in a rut, thinking this is as good as it gets, optimistically. You're marking the days off your calendar, waiting for date in particular, but… Continue reading picket-fence girl.
I look over at him, his kakis rolled up, his hair messy and his eyes awash with sleepiness. He is knee-deep in his socks, wading in the ocean. I'm sitting in the sand, watching the horizon and him acting like a fool. The beach is lonely without us; no one comes to visit her here in the midnight. The tide… Continue reading you, me, and the beach.
i've never quite fit in, i've always felt taped into reality from a separate page, i fill my mind with ideas, ethics, quotes, artwork, culture, and i enjoy brightly colored sweaters and folk music, simple things; the smell after it rains, noir movies, and wildflowers. for some reason, my bed is always unmade and my… Continue reading split.