the stars, aligned

elaine, 21 & abound
gonna fly to where my water's sky blue
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and this is why the sky never ends,
and valentines flowers last only a week
before rotting and

why we step in puddles
with new shoes on and why
the only memories we can remember 

are the ones that make us sick
inside, and why so many people fuck,
but never love, and this is why

late at night, beneath the covers
as the light bulbs cool off, i feel nothing
in my soul except the ceiling fan. 

“It’s messing people up, this social pressure to “find your passion” and “know what it is you want to do”. It’s perfectly fine to just live your moments fully, and marvel as many small and large passions, many small and large purposes enter and leave your life. For many people there is no realization, no bliss to follow, no discovery of your life’s purpose. This isn’t sad, it’s just the way things are. Stop trying to find the forest and just enjoy the trees.”

— Sally Coulter (via moaka)


i have a picking problem. and maybe a drinking problem and eating problem. i want to write, but then i also want to read and sleep and eat and cry and dream and drink and sit up in my bed listening to the neighbors sneeze in between sentences. i sneeze, too, when i’m in my room for too long. a secret about me is that i transcribe other people’s conversations when i have nothing to write. i’m thinking about getting another tattoo. if i could get high off of pop punk i would probably do that now.


Do you know what it means for a city to twinkle? In the apartment complex 45 degrees away there is a man sitting with his head in his hands and a guitar on the bed. There is a woman pacing in her kitchen of fine china and an abandoned living room with the sportscaster yelling at no one. There is no game to be cheering for anymore, the game is over, the clock starts over in military time. Someone salutes the telephone behind my walls and the fridge groans, having to appease the stringy mango no one wants.

I am quiet. I am watching the city breathe into the night as if it is not supposed to know that I am here. When you’ve spent too much of your day speaking meaningless words, soon your voice trails off, too.

could really use some of these right now

could really use some of these right now

red 40 lake

i’m trying so hard not to do drugs. the night is quiet already. it’s like they taught us black means silence, means death. i don’t know death. my cavities are uneven and i’m scared they’ll change my smile. but i don’t know, to smile. i was googling my memories to see if anyone else would be interested; instead i remembered the ex-militia diver who asked me on a date exactly eleven times and bought me a coke to prove he was serious. i drank it all because i missed being wanted, but then he gave me his sunhat and love was this warm, tender thing i had become so foreign to. i left a little before midnight on the go-fast, mother sky winking above me, upside-down.

11 months ago

someone to draw mindmaps with. someone who will buy me bootleg bubble gum. someone whose mouth doesn’t have to taste like honey. someone who knows i am often broken in the months of november, january, and july. sometimes august. sometimes too warm. someone who prays too hard and ties the shoes of prenne in < 5 blinks. someone who will close the door on their way out, and let me lock it.

  1. three people who used to be in my life messaged me today wanting to talk about their sadness
  2. i used to be that sadness
  3. i had the same three conversations
  4. but tonight’s an interesting night
  5. i was read to in a way that is more honest than myself
  6. i want to pass that on. i will find a way, someday
  7. i am listening to a song called quiet
  8. i am looking through pictures in a folder i used to call ‘first love’
  9. i forgot that’s the way we smile when we smile like that
  10. i have the strongest urge to disappear