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seven one twelve, 1254 pm
Just a thought that came into my head while I was making iced tea at the end of the best day I’ve had in a long time. I don’t know where it came from. The tea still isn’t done, but we have hemp milk so it’s ok. what if here in this last breath is…
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Tiny Pretty Things
So in the past few days, I’ve been told that I’m not competent to run a cash register because of the color of my hair, my microwave died, and the driver’s side window on my car is apparently going through a rebellious phase and refuses to go up half the time. I spent all day…
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tuesday, june 19, 1253 am.
and it’s in these smallest hours that sorrow creeps in robs the thing they call a soul of everything that kept you held together through the day and leaves you black and charred and boneless, heartless breathless (though not the way you think of them- cruel, exhilarating- but literally without blood or air to sustain…
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Banished from the Plastic Princess Kingdom
Baby girl got a set of Disney Princess dolls from her father’s girlfriend. I don’t have anything in particular against the Princesses, although I vastly prefer Grimm’s Cinderella tale to the sappy sweet animated cartoon versions, simply because I prefer the dark and slightly macabre to the fluff and fabricated happy endings. The argument that…
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mirror.
if i could break every mirror i’ve ever passed use the jagged edges of the shards to cut apart the lies of the people who have called me beautiful stab them deep into my own eyes pierce my brain and bleed the truth out i might not curl up inside myself and beat my stagnant…
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Someone Else’s Father
someone dear to me said recently that i am fiercely and wonderfully made and that i am good for someone else. i want to live up to that assertion- i want to be the person someone else’s father thinks i am- i am not the person painted in the anger of my own. (with gratitude…
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Walking in Shadows
the problem with falling into step with someone else, when you have always been miles behind or inches ahead or going in opposite directions is that you begin to rely on the other shadow to guide you walking into the street because the shadow next to yours keeps going never looking up you are trusting…
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A Little Scrap of Truth and Memory
i remember watching the sun come up tripping there was light in everything even imperfection.
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four twelve, two thirty a m.
i don’t know what this is two-thirty in the morning and my plans for sleep were sidetracked by a conversation with an old friend about nothing right now relevant (she told me about her daughter’s broken arm i responded with my son’s injury the distraction was helpful and welcome) and i tell my other friend…
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technology.
he says i don’t like it when you’re sad and i am trapped there for a moment in this thing that we’ve created blinded, dumb and stupid rendered helpless by his words and then remembering that honesty thing i can only tell him that i don’t know what to say. by december it was everything…
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April Fox 