i have been lost in a whirlwind of nostalgia. i reminisce of the days my socked feet floated dreamily down our creaky stairs as my mother awaited me with pancakes and wide arms. remembering the days when her smile wrapped around my skin; still the warmest thing i've ever felt
the strumming of a violin has broke me more times than i can count, but maybe this all goes back to the time i stole my brother’s and broke a string before even having picked it up
sometimes i can taste my own sadness in the room, i’ve broken my back trying to lift it up and throw it out the door. my mother says it just reeks like whiskey but i’ve heard we adapt to smells after 8 minutes and i’ve been drunk for 8 days
i never realized what i deserved until i fell out of love with someone who talked about all the ways to take care of me and started falling in love with someone who just does it
i said momma the sun stopped shining days ago, she said “cheer up baby it’s just a rainy couple days”. she‘s too worried to open my curtains or tell me how blue the sky has been all week . i say i’m sorry momma i’ll get up tomorrow i swear. she brings me my tea, she cries for me
i still see you in the road, sometimes i have to slam on the brakes sometimes i have to swerve around your shadow sometimes people honk and then you were never there at all and sometimes i wish you always were
i’ve been looking for the stillness in my palms since i turned 12. i said, please just keep it down, i have shit to do. i can’t live forever shakily in sadness.
i realized today i haven’t brushed my hair in 4 days. i put my hands under my thighs one more time
by 10:30am, i’ve had 6 brandy shots and 2 green cigarettes, as my mother calls them. speaking of my mother, she says i still smell of the brandy from last night. here i am, almost drunk, i say “i didn’t drink that much last night, mama”. and she believes me, because i didn’t