Writing

Katy wouldn’t have taken this vacation if she knew how much trouble it would be. Yeah, a trip to the beaches of Southern California sounded great when her boyfriend had proposed it.

You sit in the middle of your college cafeteria—top floor—and things become very apparent to you, very quickly.

whatever shoes i was given back then i could not possibly let go of.

it was unfathomable. it was an outrage

that the light-up ones, the purple sandals,

even the astronaut rainboots had to go. i wanted them,

I wrote this short story poem thing and I really want to make it better but I don't know what to add or fix. Here it is:

The flowers died on a Monday.

When you bite your jacket,

you taste the salt that has soaked in,

all the times you have worn it.

But there is no detaching-

you have sunken your teeth into a moment.

Dear love, 

The night you slept in my room the first time you were wearing one of your white cotton shirts.