“If you are out to describe the TRUTH, leave elegance to the tailor.” -Albert Einstein
I am not a tailor and I have lost my tolerance for bullshit and niceties.
I can be tactless and unbelievably direct and that’s okay.
It’s better than lying.
hiding a stuffed animal for your cat to find in the night to present the kill the next day melting into the soft sweetness of midnight phone calls and intimacy in separate beds naked boy running through morning stillness disturbed by the smell of flowers the itch the need to taste blood to destroy something…
Outside there is a thin wind flirting with the trees it has teased the curtains into dancing; I keep time in my head. Memorizing the seasons, I touch things as if my fingers will learn them again; weary of explanations, at mid-life I am more comfortable with the truth. Outside, the mountain ash hangs heavy…
Fly. Over their symbolic violence…
I see you in your dress with your kind eyes. I know your parents must not have much money. I know about shoes with holes. You smell nice. Like flowers or the rain. I like that you will sit with me. You sit with me. Even though I smell like pee. Even though everyone things…
Part of “removing what covers happiness” has to do with social connections. I’ve stopped reaching out to folx who aren’t reaching back. That’s hard but feels necessary. I’ve spend time with dear friends and family but I’m seeing how shallow many of the connections I’ve had are. I don’t feel invested in changing that. Instead, I cherish the deeply-rooted relationships I have, including the one with myself.
I am aware that I need (crave) more structure (self-imposed) a schedule walls around me a budget (no oppression) I crave arms around me that will hold not hurt I crave words in my ear whispered not yelled The tension that holds the world together unraveled too far the other way unraveled to formlessness I…