musing on my last month of twenty-four.

count down from ten


i sold the dress i wore to my grandfather’s internment at arlington. i kept a dress because it had pockets


i fall asleep on my right side where i’ve got a bum shoulder. i wake up on my left side where my ear has an industrial piercing. that is – if i can get my legs to stop shaking, then usually i can sleep


i hardly ever think about you, which is strange because for years i lived you


i don’t fear death, don’t fear dying. i fear the way people react when i tell them that, the way their lips curl when i talking about rotting


the scary thing about becoming more and more self-sufficient is what if one day i no longer


                      anyone else?


i think about life more than anything, which is good because there was a time when all i thought about was not existing


i wasn’t allowed to celebrate halloween as a kid. growing up in the church and all. no, we celebrated the harvest. i’ve never planted a thing that didn’t die


i saw myself married into a big family, to a guy who was actually pretty good in bed, with “pretty brown babies”. i saw myself in a tub of crimson bathwater


for someone who really likes laying down, i’m a very good runner. i got my athleticism from my mother, but the running…? that’s all from good ol’ dad


i spent a summer six years ago writing songs and haven’t written a single one since. i spent the last month before turning twenty-three writing poems and, again, i haven’t written one since. be wary of boys who ruin things you love.

you never ruined a thing i love…

Published by sacriluna

manic pixie mythic bitch.

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