Broken bottle green,

I toss glass shards in the air and

Catch them on tongue.

There is no home going,

Without this,

They say.

A shore insight,

And it’s all pinpricks of

Multi-colored lights.

It is in the undoing,

I feel most at home.

Blue bottle ruin,

Gin flows.

It is so good to be back,

I was caught in the undertow.

Behind there is white picket fence silence,

I settle onto a stool.

I will not be going back there.

One more eclipse.

Every piece of astrology media I’ve been consuming has been talking about how “Change is good! Change is constant!” and it somehow feels like a personal attack. I’m not sure what else I can change, so much has happened.

I will be living on my own soon…

Photo by Timothy Buck on Unsplash

My choices don’t just affect me, results, repetitions.

I have a problem. I like being right. I like when people agree with me way too much. I like when people take my advice as gospel as if I’m some sort of blessed profit.

My old therapist (I miss her, I…

She sings annihilation

Blue oil spill plastic

Stretched above the chairs.

Winter comes in great leaps,

And sweeps all sounds into submission.

Clear a way for me,

Scour it with sand and pour lime upon the lanes.

She sings annihilation.

Earth’s core is frozen and I am still considering my…

I only have poems in me lately

You ask for things in the dark.

That warm, moist place.

You demand hardship and scraped knees, greased scalps and hands clasped until sweaty and wet.

My god would not ask me to pray with my eyes closed.

I worship with eyes wide open,

I beg the world to see me, my mouth slack with honied words and lips bruised from longing.

I worship in the sun so that my skin remembers how it feels to be touched, I worship in the grass so I remember that things grow,

In time.

I will not close my eyes when I seek salvation again.

I would not miss this,

For the world.

A poem for Ronnie and Jules

I am finishing a story today.

Sweet,

And slick.

Your hands pulling me by the neck.

Closer, you say.

I hope my breathing,

Doesn’t give me

Away.

Woodsmoke,

And lily,

Your lips singe my ear.

“Let me feel,

How much you want me.”

And then,

So sweetly,

I burned.

I fall in love with you more everyday.

Maybe they’ll be a ship named after me,

Not the first name but the second one.

I am a girl in the way a storm is,

A thirst quencher

After the fire.

A man in a red hat asked where I was from,

And I felt my chest puffing out,

Just some light vacation reading.

This book is hard to read. Overall, it talks about how violent incels and misogynists aren’t just some sub-group of people who are on the fringes of society, but very much out and about and vocal. …

Free mimosas and my inner child.

I am 4 free mimosas in. Free alcohol must be more intoxicating, but even so, I ate a big breakfast and worked out for 45 min, determined to offset any over indulgence.

The sun is bright over the adults-only pool. I’ve found some blessed alone time. I rest my head…

I’m on vacation at a Club Med in Florida. This is day 1

The man in the brown suit wrung his hands like he was out of a cartoon. His nails and hair were too long, but he had the most delightful southern burr.

“This is the last stand for…

Rainn

Reverent toward impossibly huge robots and Folgers coffee.

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