Rugby
She carried our conversation like Atlas
Her stalwart arms held our dialogue firmly
I was flustered by her rhinestone-wrapped biceps
A drop of sweat dripped down her neck
It slid across her skin and hung in mid air
She carried our conversation like Atlas
Her stalwart arms held our dialogue firmly
I was flustered by her rhinestone-wrapped biceps
A drop of sweat dripped down her neck
It slid across her skin and hung in mid air
Creating is incredibly difficult. Actually, creating is unbelievably easy, but we have these voices inside our heads that tell us what we’ve made is shit and not good enough for anyone else to digest. It’s using your own damn voice that’s terrifying! Speaking up, saying who you are, and bringing new things into existence is …
In my nightmares
I can never speak
No protest breaks my lips
I sit sentinel silent
One: I love my body. It’s a beautiful vessel capable of amazing things. I’m happy where I am, where I’ve been, and ecstatic for where I’m going. Two: Having the right hormones makes the world a whole lot happier. Each day glows a little brighter with estrogen. I’m enchanted by beautiful flowers and tranquil environments. …
Her name sounds like August rain
Like the sound of ice in a glass of perfectly-bitter lemonade
She’s a different brand of nostalgia
Like a childhood joyride
sunflower oil
painting of a red dirt sunrise
chlorophyl warm emerald leaves
shaking and strumming an ethereal symphony
Our song was waging war
Parasite daydreams of control
We watched shows we hated and blasted songs we didn’t mean
Our infected hearts cradling one another’s soul
I feel like I’m hard-wired to be routined. Like if I did absolutely no introspection, I’d ride life’s expected, predetermined path for an average human my age and demographic. I’d stick to the places I know, the foods I already like, and the ideas I’ve already heard. If it weren’t for the voice in my …
I’ve boxed my garden gloves
No sense in hobbies anymore
By the time I’d have flowers blooming,
a new family would be moving in.