Writing

Petals, once brilliant,

now a bruised, crimson stain.

A wilting sigh,

a silent scream,

a last breath.

Decay's slow dance,

The swirling, hazy perspective on a long summer's day. The feeling as if time has halted. Expansive blue sky dotted with lazy clouds, watched from patches of warm, tickling grass. The swish of clothing, movement.

Thank you,

tina fey and amy poehler

it makes me feel good

that you two 

sat behind

the weekend update desk

telling jokes

proving that edgy,

political comedy

is not just

a

I have been called skinny by old friends 

I have been told I'm chubby by the internet

I have been told I'm somewhere in the middle 

a size S, M, and sometimes L

I don't like my tummy 

I'd like to say 

I think I'll stay 

with you 

I'll take your hand 

hold on tight

don't think I'll ever let go.

I'm scared I'll lose even the idea of you

This is from a longer project of mine, but I really liked how this stanza turned out, and I think it kind of works on its own.

I flip through the first

Couple of pages,