the next time he
points out the
hair on your legs is
growing back remind
that boy your body
is not his home
he is a guest.
warn him to
Alexander McQueen Savage Beauty Exhibit at the Met Museum.
Can I just? Can we just?
No matter how much you feed the wolf, he keeps looking at the forest.
I’m the problem.
I am everything wrong with my fucking life.
There’s an ancient saying in Japan, that life is like walking from one side of infinite darkness to another, on a bridge of dreams. They say that we’re all crossing the bridge of dreams together. That there’s nothing more than that. Just us, on the bridge of dreams.
The World Is Flat
It’s 4:49 P.M.
You sway from side to side, sigh, jam an earbud in. Cue up a hopeful song.
"No, we don’t need a reason! You’re unstoppable!"
The irony could make you cry, if you hadn’t recently decided to give up on irony.
"And we won’t back down this time!"
Your mind flicks like a finger through a Rolodex. Cover letters you haven’t finished. Your bank balance. The event you are afraid of attending, alone.
"We are, weareweareweare, weareweareweare!"
Maybe if you were dumber or more gullible you would be easily swept away by rhythms and sounds.
You know you’re unstoppable.
I’m fucking brave.
I do a thousand brave things a day.
Love some unloved part.
- And I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.
- No. Because I will feel the weight of it. And you will feel the weight of it. And I don't want to live with a person who acts on expectation, who is constantly trying to fill a void.
If you let a bunch of buffoons take away your love for something, your heart is weak. Maybe love isn’t for you.