i survived a fucked up childhood and all i got was this inability to tell the difference between what i actually want and what i think others want me to want
strange feeling, to realize that i actually want to be happy and healthy, in my own way. i don't want to accomplish a bajillion different things. i want to make time for friendships, conversations, tea, and living a life. mine.
revise toward aliveness. toward exciting language. not toward some Big Idea you want the poem to contain. which ultimately is *away* from the poem’s pulse. let the poem be smarter than you.
Please enjoy your own company.
Please don't underestimate your own hand high-fiving your own hand.
Please say thank you to your breaths at least a lot.
Please say OH WOW at your nothing muches because that's how somethings start.
At the club
Virgo: brb gonna pass out water bottles so my friends stay hydrated
Cancer: brb calling my friends Ubers so they get home safe
Leo: honestly all your friends want to sleep with me