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Suffice You
Read more: Suffice YouI will pull the sun from the sky for a rainy day if that is your desire. I will be a stool to rest your feet upon if ever they are tired. I will be the cure to your infection, the bandage to your wounds. I will be the gauze to your bleeding cuts and your sheltered cozy womb. I will learn all there is to know and become your greatest teacher. I will be selfless and all-knowing, wise, stronger never weaker.
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To My Late Hero, The Original Rockstar
Read more: To My Late Hero, The Original RockstarI marvelled at the man on the screen. A man who, somehow, had the very same eyes as my grandfather, my father, and myself. I could not believe, and cannot emphasize enough, how strange it was to discover that my one true hero looked precisely like he could have walked me down the aisle at my wedding. A part of me has always wondered if the paternal wound I carry has amplified my infatuation with him, and if he didn’t look like family, would I feel the same?
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The Epilogue of the Kid
Read more: The Epilogue of the KidIt was like every individual cell in my body was dancing, alive, and renewed. The inner monologue that constantly tried to convince me I was acting strange, that I had said something weird, was silenced in a heartbeat. Replacing it was the self-assuredness of a God. The sharp and sure sensation that I was precisely where I was meant to be, doing exactly what I was meant to be doing, was palpable. I was unstoppable, lovable, and most of all, capable. This was, as I knew it, the very best version of myself. It had to be.
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You Turned Yourself Into An Effigy In Order For Me To Love You
Read more: You Turned Yourself Into An Effigy In Order For Me To Love YouThe lights of a kitchen that rests in a period of unchanging time turn on, and a blurred figure is panicked. An adhesive. Something to put you back together. Something to put our love back together again. Drawers fly open. Objects fall onto a dusty floor. A roll of tape, elastic bands, paperclips, cutlery, garbage. The cupboard which stores the only things that have touched your lips as much as mine contain nothing that could put you back together.
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No Airbag, We Die Like Men
Read more: No Airbag, We Die Like MenIf only there was a way to let it all be free, to open myself like a cookie jar, emptying out the rotten contents for the birds to peck away at in their hunger. If I could guess I would say that even the birds would refuse it. Poison of the mind cannot purify itself through expulsion, only by sorting through the muck with a fine-tooth comb. Only in total scrutiny can there be a change of pace, a change of scenery, from the inside out.
Her Candid Altar
Sometimes the great bones of my life feel so heavy, and all the tricks my body knows ― the opposable thumbs, the kneecaps, and the mind clicking and clicking — don’t seem enough to carry me through this world and I think:From “Spring Azures” by Mary Oliver
how I would like to have wings — blue ones — ribbons of flame. How I would like to open them, and rise.