11.30

sometimes i get the fierce feeling that i am about to meet someone who will change everything.

i'm bouncing with anticipation.

lately my days have included laying in the back of my car with the hatch open to the cold,
standing in the corner of shows,
working, drinking tea,
writing slam poems
reading Cat's Cradle
sketching things that i wake up with in my head
trying to be more bold.

i think it is time for hot springs and a trip south, where i always feel fresh.

also, i've been laughing more.

have you missed my lists?

-my great-grandfather passed away. he could beat me at cards even near the end.
-i am in love with a 4 year old named Elliott
-Junot Diaz is my favorite author
-i spend my days knee deep in either music reviews or pastry cream
-my decision making is questionable
-counting down to December 29
-the first roll of film on my new Pentax camera looked dark and gross
-i'm going to meet someone important. i can feel it.
-looking forward to my classes next semester
-right this second --> making ginger spice cookies


'quaking leaves
and broken light
shifting skin,
the coming night
the bearers of all good things arrive
climb inside us
twist and cry
a  kiss on your molten eyes'

aching

now.

this wasn't meant to hurt.

toxic and timeless

IF I DON'T COME BACK,
I MEAN,
IF I GET SIDETRACKED,

IT'S ONLY BECAUSE I WANTED TO

this inspires me

TIME DIDN'T WEAR AWAY MY FEELINGS FOR YOU, LOVE
JUST RUSTED THEM AND MADE THEM HARD TO FIND

Thomas

forgetting you is an impossibility that presents itself ,,,

awareness is the slender shiver your spirit sends trembling through my marrow
it crosses my eyes and sometimes they notice.

unspoken lover,
you heard me when you dissolved
you heard me make the painful human discovery :
death means
i can't touch you even though
you are right there

remember how at your funeral, your mother and father didn't cry?
it either meant strength or suppression. i cried until my couch could not possibly absorb one more
tear,
always struck with the sensation that i knew you better than anyone and then feeling selfish because that is a fucking lie.

bravery is the look on your sallow face the day the chemotherapy made you blind
triumphant, knowing and peaceful
accepting
unafraid.
that night i knew before the phone call
your last seconds echoed in my blood.

echo they shall.

you belong to the impossible largeness of love
and it's okay that i never said the three words
because

in my head, you were never really dead.