Apologize for too many lines..
My name is ____ __________ This is me on a Wednesday night. This was me, twenty minutes ago Smoking isn’t a vice, it’s a death grip that caresses you while you slowly lose consciousness. This time last year, I worked in a record store. Not much to say there, just lots of ‘Oh! Good Choice!’s and ten minute breaks to escape the alternative-country music that was always in...
I'm really sorry that I don't think about you much... →
I wish I had the digestive system to throw up on the steps of your house. I wouldn’t even have to wait to see you slip. Just knowing that somehow you were going to be affected by something I created would be enough. Stirs up the scattered glittery cut-offs of satisfaction that settled in the cracks and corners of my mind when I was like… what, 16? They’re all shaped like horse shoes. Good...
Because my minds hollowed out
And then I was all like, running through a street in thin heels yelling ‘SOMEONE MAKE ME SMILE’ like the alcohol wasn’t curving my face skyward anyway. And alcohol comes and goes, and friends and houses come and go. Let me get one thing straight though, I’ve given up anything cool I’ve ever had. In order, I’m starting to see, to grasp this one amazing thing. Which is actually completely fine...
Scarily Unsuprising →
Starlet meets let-downs
Go to sleep without late night cigarettes, waking up feeling like i’ve actually slept. Young people trying so hard to feel shit spill all over the street outside my old favourite cafe. Even I have to admit though, they do sorta look cool. I lit the fire when you reminded me, building something up to burn has a nice last-year nostalgia to it. Watching the smoke cut through the fog didn’t...
Insomnia indeed. Tired high-fives it’s dirty hands under my eyes. Half-moon rings of charcoal under each, looking less green with every sleepless night. More of a blurry, red-edged, forest floor moss colour. I’ve been in pyjamas for 3 days, heavy feet slapping on wet pavement below pale pink shorts covered in bumble bees. Constantly on my feet from an inability to close my eyes for longer...
I’m liking the crazy delicate stretch of peace a still winter night brings more than my mothers drunk gaze and repeated questioning and then 3 glasses later her angry unfounded words that slur all over my body until I’m just wrapped up in bad feelings. Like a layer I can’t scrape off. I hope that when you woke up and I wasn’t there, that your eyes didn’t twitch like they do when you’re...
Hit me with your best shot
Tallulah is a name I’ve never liked for anyone else but myself. I wish puberty for girls was as ice-breaking as it is for boys. Snapping vocal chords and swelling necklines. Instead there’s this slow emergence of some slightly awkward elongated female crawling out of a little girl. It’s not some beautiful blossoming like on a nature garden path I never walked. It’s like a dying...
Carpet Burns [You Know Who You Are]
It’s a shame I don’t.. Watching cracks in the ceiling, half hoping they will move again. Big parts of my sky will fall to the carpet, leave big empty jigsaw shapes of sky. Then we could stand underneath them when the sun was out and all our Vitamin D deficiency problems will result in colds from living in a house with a broken roof. Just so you know, whoever you are. Yesterday was...
You’re amazing, it’s everybody else that’s fucked up. Your differences aren’t flaws, I promise. Hearing pain at the hospital today. White sheets remind me of growing pains. And then the pains of growing up.
how many guys have you slept with?
A few. Not too many, or maybe too many. I don’t know. I can count on more than two hands but less than four. Ask me anything
are you as unhappy with yourself as you seem?
Ahh… depends, how unhappy do I seem? I’m ok, just young, I guess. Ask me anything