I am From…

9/20/11 I am from Russian hats. From caviar crepes, to plain white rice. I am from ruined shacks, and castles painted more than twice. I am from the depth of woods; my roots are sewed into the ground. I’m just a minuscule hummingbird, that makes a loud clarion sound.     I am from parachutes,…

“I wish that every human life might be pure transparent freedom” -Simone de Beauvoir.

Money is an Internal Organ

7.12.15 Money is an internal organ I read it in an anatomy book the other day. It is distributed amongst all vital parts of the body. It is near the liver, allowing liquor to corrode it. It is weaved into the lining of the stomach, guiding various medications and dieting pills through the digestive system….

Filth

9.11.15 Filth. You address yourself as a load of bullshit. unaware of your significance. I struggle to pick the remaining scattered fragments of your ego from the trash bin. “Here, eat.” I say, as I force feed you words of praise and excellence. You refuse to devour the feast of love I have laid out…

Coffee

Story of the Day 4/7/15   “Fuck.” I let out under my breath softly, as he bit the corners of my mouth. What I didn’t expect to happen was coming more hastily than I had originally anticipated. As we sat on the little red duvet on the floor sipping our coffee, August lifted his left…

Not Enough

11.12.14 Today I met a boy who thought my watch was far too large for my wrist. It was the first thing he had noticed about me despite my oversized tacky flannel shirt. I then looked at his wrist, and saw that his watch, unlike mine, was small and had stopped running. And who was…

Bloom

11.2.14 Bloom   into little eukaryotic cells into little tissues into pulchritudinous organs into a breathing blastocyst. everything that is you: A beautiful composition, A masterpiece. A temple, A work of art. A fruitful garden. A formula for greatness. You possess the ingredients that compose this very complex universe. So,fleet. Fleet into the world. Unlatch…

I am Not Dead Yet

July 2015 I am not dead yet but I will be soon. Maybe tonight, if I go to sleep at the right moment at the right time, I will be able to die in my dreams. Where all is surreal and abstract it means everything and yet it means nothing.   I am not dead…

Ballad for Abigail

6.21.15 Sweet little sister, my beautiful girl  you are a flower,   a delicate pearl.    You are a mountain     made of tough-soiled terrain;      you are the sunshine       that follows the rain.        With hazelnut eyes         roasted to perfection          and your laugh being the sweetest,                    most candied confection,            You are a forrest             made of thick canopy woods;…

I Refuse

6.24.15 I Refuse. I refuse to apologize for my reproductive system;  for my monthly menstruation and my ruby stained garments.    I refuse to apologize for my tight fitting blouses,      for the curves defined by my slim denim trousers.        I refuse to apologize for not wearing a bra,          for being deemed as  “inappropriate” and “promiscuous”.            because…

Drunk with Love

10/07/15                        Drunk with love I am perched onto the back of flight. Grasping onto the arms of the wind, pressing my left cheek against the back of her air. fleeting past the current of humanity. And then, I let go of her frozen hands. and said goodbye. She kissed me goodnight; placed me to…

Age

  9.11.15 They say that age is just a number. No. It is a wall; a blocking force. A deceptive tool used to manipulate and measure knowledge. You’re twenty seven. I wonder what that even means. I’ve seen more in life than nineteen years could ever offer. I’ve indulged in the epitome of happiness, and…