This Is My Room

I love my room but I am ready for a new one. This is the room that I reluctantly shrunk in. This is the room that knows me better than anyone else ever will. This is the room that I am growing in. I am ready for a new room.

THIS!

I want to curl into a mountain and sleep for days. This isn’t just another Piscean universe. I hate my human-ness it makes me sick to my stomach. My thoughts have the capacity to scare someone away? All of a sudden I’m crying. I don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about. I only get this way at night, I swear, and you’re the most beautiful person that I’ve ever met.

Fire Walk With Me

Between Two Mysteries / 3am

I spent the weekend with you in a magical forest, nestled into mountains.

Forelsket

I feel stupid when I miss you which is a direct result of __________. I hate being home alone.

It’s lonely out here.

Feeling Feelings

I shut my eyes tightly to try to remember exactly what you look like in my orange light. Backlit, silhouetted. Look up at the ceiling and stick to the sheets. It almost smells like tangerines. Keep this moment, keep it together. I feel feelings for you that are very strong.

Today I Don’t Want To

Today I kind of want to die but I’m not stupid. I’m used to this.

I wish that I never tattooed my feet.

That Keep Me Alive

The more it snows, the further away I feel from everything. Tonight is a crazybrain night.

I lose my job in less than two weeks and I lost my favorite crystal.

Fever Induced, Please

My bangs stick to my forehead when I wake up in sticky sheets at 5am.

These mattress springs are uncomfortable and groaning under my weight.

I lay in bed and think about Richard Brautigan’s “Please.”

Validation, Being A Human (Written February 10, 2009)

Crippling insecurities will eat at everyone and then leave only the bones. Pull your shoulders back and elongate your torso. Is it wrong to feel so fragile sometimes?

Instead I’ll think about laying in lush, wet grass and sinking. I can feel the sun in every follicle, an electric buzzing starts in my toes. I’m going to blend into the ground and play with the hem of my dress. I can hear engines rumbling through the dirt and I know what an open car window feels like. The trees and wooden porches are groaning in the heat. My thighs stick together and my hair is always greasy. I am grateful.