Posts
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the enduring issue
you.
you're a golden boy
born to shine in the sun,
but cast to the dark of night,
drenched in moonlight.
you change like the times when you see me,
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a state of mind
my hands curl around the flimsy plastic folds of my shopping bag
as I walk home through streets tight and winding.
it is a sunny morning,
crisp and clear,
and magic.
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got to be weary
the mornings are misty,
cold and dark.
my head hurts as I haul myself out of bed,
put on clothes that clearly don't go well together,
and set off through the fog of dawn.
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who am I?
fresh out of the plane,
weary eyed and sickly pale,
I trudge.
deep within my suitcase, I carry a passport I don't want to show to anyone,
even if they ask for ID.
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the misery of love
every time you look at me
with your soft eyes,
tan skin,
and a nose you used to hate,
I mourn the loss of the love I once held for you.
Loves
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i pledge allegiance
i hate watching
you. i hate the blood
that pumps underneath your right hand
and runs through you red and thick and salty--
i hate your stubborn lips, mouthing
every
word.
i wish i didn't wonder
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Blue and White Stripes
November 11th,
I entered the boutique downtown,
searching for a forever friend.
I scoured all the racks,
red,
mustard,
lavender.
Then I saw him,
Blue,
slightly faded
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figures of the night
we sat and imagined fireflies
flitting between the tops of the RVs
as the sun disappeared into muggy,
illicit sludge. we realized we both liked
the sticky-sweet taste of summer
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Paradox
Love is a paradoxical thing.
I want desperately to be loved.
I want to wake up to a "good morning, my favorite person" text.
I want the last thing I see at night to be a little red heart emoji.
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alone
Even with my friends, I'm alone.
They date. They love each other.
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Mr. Red ( ever so slightly revised)
There is a man on the corner of 87th and Amsterdam. I do not know him, and he does not know me. He wears a red T-shirt with red sweatpants. He wears a red coat with red shoes. He wears a red ski mask on his face.