monsters live forever

not funny haha, more like funny fuck you.

Tue, 18 Jun 2013 17:18:16 -0500

it’s funny when a girl tells you that you’re being self involved and pathetic
when you describe yourself
using words
that came out of her mouth in the first place.

we're all mad here

Sat, 15 Jun 2013 21:59:00 -0500

you don’t have to wander through the looking glass, honey, i’ve got you covered.
to be accurate: i’ve got you reflected; i mirror your moods.
&you hate the way i look
you hate the way i look at you.

it’s kind of funny except that it’s not because really
you hate the way i look like you.
you don’t know it but it all started with a sigh

that wasn’t mine.

the good life.

Sat, 15 Jun 2013 21:56:14 -0500

i can’t find my phone and it’s pissing me off. i want to call my mom.
i don’t want to cry to her, there’s been enough of that. i want to tell her jokes and talk about my life and say hey this is what’s up.

she’s good for my self esteem. makes me feel tall. tells me
baby don’t bother,
and other unintended song lyrics.

my mom always told me to be with someone that absolutely cherishes me,
and the love will come later, she said.
but i generally never took my mother’s advice and anyway she also was telling me to be with a man.

so i fucked that one up.

this weight

Fri, 07 Jun 2013 15:30:42 -0500

Sometimes people talk about a lump in the throat, and maybe it’s something like that but somewhere along the way that lump wasn’t so benign anymore. It wasn’t only filled with a couple of tears. At some point the tissue swelled and blackened. It spread out; took over everything. And to think, I’d been excited that I was gaining weight.
Really it wasn’t the extra slice of cheesecake thickening my thighs and ass, really it wasn’t all that whey that added an inch around my ribcage.
Really
it was the growing knot in my stomach, the spreading tangle of silence and resentment.
It took over everything; it filled me up.
And I can hardly breathe, let alone form words. I can hardly breathe,
let alone begin to speak to you.

the candy jar

Fri, 07 Jun 2013 11:28:30 -0500

it really is a hard knock life, isn’t it, little monster.
it’s so terribly hard when you’ve got a roof over your head and tiny, fuzzy creatures that love you. so hard when there’s food in the fridge. so hard.

so yeah, maybe life isn’t so hard. but then again it is.
we put so much of ourselves into one vessel. dozens of eggs in the same basket when you weren’t even planning on having kids.
so much of your life is poured into the one thing you love, and then maybe that thing closes up. maybe it seals itself. maybe it gets all shut up and put away and you can’t reach it anymore.

and it takes all the pieces you poured in there right along with it.
it takes you with it.
and you can’t reach it anymore.

so maybe it really is a hard knock life, you know. in a first world sort of way.

"the thing is, i’m so terribly happy. so happy i could do the dishes. so happy i could fall..."

Tue, 04 Jun 2013 11:50:00 -0500

“the thing is, i’m so terribly happy. so happy i could do the dishes. so happy i could fall apart; shatter into a million colorful pieces.
&i’m so weary that you don’t know. so weary you can’t see it. so weary of you waiting for me to fall apart into something ugly—and not colorful at all.”

it's so lovely til there's nothing left to blame

Tue, 04 Jun 2013 11:47:12 -0500

when you bring the fire back, someone’s bound to get burned.
it just works like that, it’s one of that ever-irritating category, just
“one of those things”

the thing that’s funny about it, only it’s not really funny—
just the funny to keep from crying kind of funny—
is the stronger you get, the more you get questioned. you get “better” and it’s not enough.
you’re still questioned, watched, whatever. &they’re waiting and they blame you
&they’re furious when you stand up for yourself,
for something that maybe used to fly but now it doesn’t
something that used to float but now it’s sunk.

everything, before, was about labels and being crazy. now it’s just about me being a bitch.
and you know how I feel about that word, i’ll tell you, and i’ll make a joke
that isn’t funny and i’ll laugh
but just because there’s nothing else to say.

rainbow cakes &picture post cards.

Fri, 10 May 2013 16:34:03 -0500

rainbow cakes &picture post cards.

the thing about "my girl"

Thu, 02 May 2013 12:46:18 -0500

i absolutely trust and love my girlfriend, but sometimes i don’t act like it.
i think i have a lot of bad habits, and they’re hard to break.
but it’s silly—to ever question anything, i mean. it’s silly to worry or nag.
that kind of shit should be left to fractured relationships. which, surprisingly enough, is no longer a category we fit beneath.

i love this girl. she’s wonderful and beautiful and loyal.
she can’t be controlled &that’s a beautiful thing. but there’s also safety and comfort in it… because you know she’d never do anything to hurt you.
not again, not on purpose.

&i am very possessive of my life, my home, my family, my space…my shit.
&sometimes i have been known to spout colloquial gems such as,
“BACK UP OFF MY SHIT.”

but i should make it very clear, love, that when i say “my shit”…
that does not, nor will it EVER include
you.
you are not my shit. you are not owned; you’re not possessed.
you are someone that i have the pleasure of keeping in my life, &someone i’d like to love and hold until the day that i die…

but you’re so perfect in your own way, &so lovely in the way you move and things you do. &nobody could ever and should ever try to change that. nobody, nobody. not even me.

&quite frankly i’m a little appalled that anyone would ever think so little of you as to assume that you could ever be controlled. quite frankly i think it’s silly that anyone would ever think you should ask for permission. why ask permission to be exactly who you are?

which, in my opinion, is perfection.

Photo

Sun, 28 Apr 2013 15:44:00 -0500

women.

Fri, 26 Apr 2013 12:55:40 -0500

we find solidarity in the saddest things.

Photo

Thu, 25 Apr 2013 21:11:27 -0500

Photo

Thu, 25 Apr 2013 20:59:16 -0500

"everything is OK, & i hardly know how to handle it."

Tue, 23 Apr 2013 09:13:00 -0500

“everything is OK,
& i hardly know how to handle it.”

we made friendship bracelets for our dogs. true story.

Sun, 21 Apr 2013 16:58:29 -0500

we made friendship bracelets for our dogs.
true story.

Photo

Fri, 19 Apr 2013 11:45:55 -0500

lobster

Fri, 19 Apr 2013 11:38:58 -0500

I’ve always loved easily. Maybe it’s because I always gave everyone a different kind of love. I don’t mean that I have this special, Clair-Monster-style kind of love that’s so unique and different. I mean that for each person that I’ve met and chosen to get close to, I’ve had a different way of loving them. I found something specific, something wonderful—something fucking lovable—about them and I’ve latched onto it.

Once upon a time I loved a Fairy Prince. Another time I loved a rag doll.
Sometimes I loved a person for the cool respite, sometimes for their eyes or hair. I’ve loved because I needed to, or was needed. I have loved for certain qualities, or—at times—for a general lack of quality.

I’ve loved a lot, really. But then there was her.
It was different; it was whole. It was the kind of love with “in” as a prefix.
&I think that really loving a person means they take all of those things and wind them into one.
Loving a person means they weave the different ways together,
&it’s flesh and blood and something bigger. Greater than the sum of broken hearts.

She was everything and all of it.
She braided all the little threads together and hung it loosely around my neck.
She pulled it tight and asked, “Do you trust me?”

&for whatever reason I absolutely and completely do.
Regardless of everything, there is no question. There is no doubt.

There is me and there is her, and there is this lovely spiderweb of life and love that knits us perfectly together.

a lovely poem about all of my lovely shit.

Thu, 18 Apr 2013 20:25:13 -0500

sometimes i forget how lucky i am.
&how spoiled.

babe pretty much gives me whatever i want.
&she lets me put whatever random shit i want to
on the walls of our house.

1096

Thu, 18 Apr 2013 08:36:19 -0500

i remember it really well even though i didn’t think that it was important at the time. it was just some night, in some bar, and there was some girl.

she was more than “some girl” though—she was kinda in a bubble. does that make sense? she was wearing sunglasses inside a bar at night time—like a total douche. but i saw her lift up the glasses to order a drink and i was like, “hey pretty.”

except i didn’t say hey pretty. i sidled up all smarmy-like and dropped some line about coming with me to the front of the stage. (we were at an ani difranco show. because i like stereotypes.)

&that was it. i didn’t know it at the time, but that was it.
i met the little lady that i was going to spend the next three years with.
&hopefully also forever.

i tell the story over &over because she likes it. (or at least she tells me she does.) i tell her about the way her eyes lit up and cut into me and i was hooked. i tell her about the way i had to talk to her, had to stay, had to find her, had to write my phone number in pink high lighter on her arm.

i guess it’s the details that make the difference.
because even though i swear i didn’t know what was happening, and it was a couple hundred days before i fell in love—there was still something about her that drew me in. &i’m really, really glad that i was drunk that night and it made me think i was cool or something. because i’d really, really be miserable if i hadn’t hit on her, and i didn’t have her in my life.

&i tell you all the time, babe, but
i really love you.

"alright i’ll take out my nose ring… but i’m not giving up glitter nail polish."

Wed, 17 Apr 2013 14:03:00 -0500

“alright i’ll take out my nose ring… but i’m not giving up glitter nail polish.”

- on getting older.