you are in these bones, but they are not you.
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from the future
It’s been years now, I’ve got new rocks in my pockets: some smooth and polished, others that feel more like you. I’ve spent a long time learning how to live without cutting my palms. -what I’m saying is I know better about letting go now. And I know none of this matters, because I was Read more
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Life inside the fire
•Living a moment dripping in sunlight, every movement striking another chord for this charged atmosphere to shiver through, •Every day waking up with my fingers pressed to the open mouth of a smiling optimism, palms curling around a growing body of evidence, a heart filling to overflow with rediscovered faith, •I’ve wrapped my limbs around Read more
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the body at the bottom
I remember the last time I saw you I’d been tossing pennies into a well that resembled your mouth. I couldn’t tell you what was said, except that it was a lie. That’s what we were back then, “This is what we do to survive.” That was before the murders that brought us back to Read more
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Marais
Do you understand what swamp water is? Maybe we’ll get there. I think it was the first woman to hate me in my sanctuary who commented on the emptiness of my eyes, and, even then, I knew she was right. I’ve never been dead inside but the vacuum between emotion and expression is enough to Read more
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mon ame
I’ve broken so much of myself to carry these last few years forward: cracked bones to examine the marrow of my character, dissected my every decision. It’s easy to get caught up in the idea of fixing yourself, this static concept of a thing, as though we are specimens trapped under glass. There is a Read more
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Sad panties.
The nights hurt in a way that makes me want to cut myself open, pour this out onto the floor. Walk away from it. Be done. I’m no good at emotional bloodletting: I cut myself and keep it in, flood the cavity, guts reeking of rotting blood. Sulphur and pennies. Hey, you ever been punched Read more
let me sow that i may reap 