that girl

i will never be that girl who stands up straight.
i will never be that girl who wears the tasteful white dress,
the solid red earrings as the only accent, her hair pulled
back, loosely, in a simple bun. that girl who takes
two bites to eat one french fry.

i will not laugh cutely at what you say.

i will not lightly touch your arm at the right moments.

and i certainly won't excuse myself when i go to the bathroom.


i am not without manners,
but i am without filters. i don't understand simplicity for
simplicity's sake. the point of a monotone outfit.
a face without black eyeliner. a laugh without the belly.
a beer without (at least) a little belch.
a mouth of teeth without at least one pointing in the opposite direction.

sophistication belongs on the shelf with the dictionaries.
i will take my coffee black, with lots of cream.
when the milk collects above my lip i hope you'll laugh, then lean over
and lick it off,
tell me that you've never seen me more beautiful.

aubade by philip larkin

I work all day, and get half-drunk at night.
Waking at four to soundless dark, I stare.
In time the curtain-edges will grow light.
Till then I see what's really always there:
Unresting death, a whole day nearer now,
Making all thought impossible but how
And where and when I shall myself die.
Arid interrogation: yet the dread
Of dying, and being dead,
Flashes afresh to hold and horrify.

The mind blanks at the glare. Not in remorse
-- The good not done, the love not given, time
Torn off unused -- nor wretchedly because
An only life can take so long to climb
Clear of its wrong beginnings, and may never;
But at the total emptiness for ever,
The sure extinction that we travel to
And shall be lost in always. Not to be here,
Not to be anywhere,
And soon; nothing more terrible, nothing more true.

This is a special way of being afraid
No trick dispels. Religion used to try,
That vast moth-eaten musical brocade
Created to pretend we never die,
And specious stuff that says No rational being
Can fear a thing it will not feel, not seeing
That this is what we fear -- no sight, no sound,
No touch or taste or smell, nothing to think with,
Nothing to love or link with,
The anaesthetic from which none come round.

And so it stays just on the edge of vision,
A small unfocused blur, a standing chill
That slows each impulse down to indecision.
Most things may never happen: this one will,
And realisation of it rages out
In furnace-fear when we are caught without
People or drink. Courage is no good:
It means not scaring others. Being brave
Lets no one off the grave.
Death is no different whined at than withstood.

Slowly light strengthens, and the room takes shape.
It stands plain as a wardrobe, what we know,
Have always known, know that we can't escape,
Yet can't accept. One side will have to go.
Meanwhile telephones crouch, getting ready to ring
In locked-up offices, and all the uncaring
Intricate rented world begins to rouse.
The sky is white as clay, with no sun.
Work has to be done.
Postmen like doctors go from house to house.

so g-d m-f READY

so.
many.
freaking.
FEELINGS.

ever just feel... antsy?
at 12:19 am? on a saturday?
staring into space, staring at your fingernails (one out of 10 is green, the others pink), shaking your leg with nervous energy, just wondering...
pondering,
what's next?

i want something GOOD.
i want something i can sink my teeth into,
that feels nice and cool when i swallow it, and then
satiates me.
i don't want another
god damn mother fucking
"transition."

what is a transition
but wasted time?
or time spent waiting?
the clock still fucking ticks
while you wait,
and your time falls off
bit by bit.

i want my LIFE to take off...
the energy is boiling,

it just needs to know
where to go.

thinking about you and how
much i want to be near you and
now
the work in front of me is...
well,
work... and the thoughts of you are,
well,
precious.

in wake we are apart.
in sleep we are together, at least
the oceans zip up, or
we slice across them with the
strength and dynamic of a
swordfish.
meet me on the shore. sweep my
hair behind my ear and gaze into
my eyes, the blue iris and the
yellow ringed around the center.
until then, look at
the sun.