as my stomach churns I reflect back on my life

in detail, mind you.

Ovarian cysts rupture beneath an overworked liver, and inflamed intestines  twist and tango out a dance I’ll be glad to forget.

brain waves  no surfer wants  brain cells  dying by the day

but there is no casting out, diminishing or even setting aside-

my body is an aging temple  mildew and mold run amok I’m out of four leafed clovers  and that’s okay, 

because sometimes my mind’s eye smiles back at me  because sometimes  I truly do love this  poor excuse for a body.

3 hours, 5 hours and infinity

I’m the child in kindergarten  with frustrated hands  that are too small  to properly hold a knife and fork, not weathered enough to do taxes- trying to fit a circle into a square  the expression is old  but I’m perpetually sitting criss-cross applesauce  young at heart  and naive in my endeavors 

a twenty some old year old girl  who loves too hard and works too hard  at things that clearly don’t fit  believe me my love  I wish it all did fit like a glove (cue Mac DeMarco) but I tried so hard  and  these hands are empty.   I’d give you a second chance  but I’ve given you so many  and I hope one day you’ll see. I didn’t give up on us,  I did what was right for me. 

Sacramento, CA

I think it is okay to throw away a lot of the things you've said and begin to mind what you say because after all don't we all deserve a second-second chance? feelings destroyed relationships shattered maybe it's more a matter of reevaluating reconsidering recommitting restating remembering the sidewalks are getting worn down and so are you re envision yourself as a neglected street with cracks that cut like those deep laugh lines on your face maybe it'd be a nice change to appreciate the evidence of time past. rather than mourning for what we all knew wasn't going to last it's been said the art of communication no the art of language is dead so when true beauty emerges from cracks in asphalt a broken down street don't let that break your spirit words of disgust travel fast and your community will hear it embrace those imperfections and when that road is paved anew remember it is and always will be apart of you.

mitchelLOL

somewhere between state lines crossing over so many lines all the while I just wish I could align myself beside him arch my back curl my spine use the pulsing of his blood to count the seconds and save that time for when we're apart. I'm finally a part of Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band but I don't need a little help from my friends I'd rather spend my time alone looking up at a sky of diamonds only to smile to myself because my lover boy hates those gaudy rocks but that never stops him from putting the sparkle right back in my eye.

True that, double true

there is dissonance

in distance for instance my favorite songs are robbed of a chord or 2 my favorite color has lost its hue (Something, something about you) Cool bass lines turn into burning tan lines my laugh lines hide beneath sad song lines I wish I was lying but I prefer to be melodramatically dying it's smokey outside, inside my head and on the otherside of the state, my mental state is all burning bridges from here- construction is slow ill spend my time Deconstructing words, Reconstructing highways and think of different ways to remember you as a time of day because it's easier to think of you as minutes on a clock than miles on a road there is dissonance in distance, it makes everything feel so awfully offbeat and makes my baby feel so frightfully far away.

Latent

it's comparable to hating myself on bad days sad days in every way we're as compatible as all get out and this latent anger reminds me of stomach sickness I saw the destructive behavior I was the witness always covering for you but now I wonder what good did it do Ive been replaced by the very person you couldn't stand but like an epiphany I was there to make you realize she is your world and you were a boy who had yet to meet it every picture I'm in I will Photoshop myself out Ill run for that runners high because feeling this low is a constant headache and your part in my life is as cliche as all get out so I can't thank you for putting me through hell this poem will meaning nothing to you and just as well.

he's hella cool man

doggo crashes

here’s a quick whatever for emotions felt beneath undecided weather

my hair and skin are oily, been mopping greasy floors washing dirty dishes

in hopes of living out unfulfilled wishes, 1 god damn masterpiece of a screenplay

problem is I’ve been rewinding to and pressing replay

the good ol’ days.

here’s a late whatever for emotions felt alongside an undecided lover