Oh Ok So It Turns Out Ive Been Borrowing Grief From The Future ! It Turns Out Ive Been Preparing To Lose

Remember that first butterfly?

That night we went bowling, then to

Sonic, then to Cook Out for some reason.

You had released that little guy

From your jar of hearts, then

He fluttered into mine

It was the migration of

Monarchs, an extraction of

Honey. A swarm of bees and things

When we first met.

Looking through old photos and I found one of my junior homecoming dance. It was the night after my dad's funeral. My friend who'd stayed with me the entire week, in my bed, through all the tears, made me get out of bed that night. She pulled my shirt up over my head and told me to get in the shower. She washed my hair for me. She curled it. She rubbed foundation onto my face, lined my eyes, and put me in my dress.

She contacted my other friends who were feeling awkward and unsure of what to do and told them the party was still on, to meet at my house for photos before the dance.

They all showed up, and I went to the dance, and we all screamed and cried, and I took my first step to healing.

I haven't spoken to that girl in five years. Nothing happened. I moved away. She fell in love. We grew apart and into our own lives.

It's strikes me how beautiful the ephermeral nature of teenage friendships can be.

We may not need each other now, but there was a time when I needed her more than anyone. And sometimes she needed me.

And the universe put us together just then. Just when it was most important. Not a year too late or too soon. The same town, the same school, the same classroom where we could meet. Right when it mattered.

We come and go from people's lives every day, and along the way we may get a chance to love someone fully, just for a little while.

I'll remember every single one.

Sputnik Sweetheart, Haruki Murakami

i saw a post on twitter by a european saying americans are fake for their random compliments to strangers and their general cheery demeanor and like no. no no no you don’t understand. if you get a random compliment from an american on the street about your outfit or whatever, that is 100% genuine. we mean it. we aren’t lying we are making a small but fleeting connection with you because our lives are shitty but the human condition is enduring. oh god i’m clutching my chest

WINTER

The grey skies take over, fuzziness endures 

Staying by the fire could be helpful 

Just don’t mourn over the storm;

As you sit, gazing at the warm fire

You know you are still cold 

From the protection of  The lonely winter.

KNITTED2

Boy you are caught in the threads of your own 

Thoughts. 

You can’t break through, no. 

You trip and stumble over these knitted paths, 

They lead you somewhere dark- somewhere distant. 

You’ve fallen down the rabbit hole with only the 

String as rope to get you out. 

You try to reach, but do you really? 

Excuses excuses are all that’s ever heard. 

Your ball of yarn is lost and you can’t even get out 

Of bed. 

i haven’t journaled in so long because i’m actually a bunny house wife and i’m busy feeding my kits. no but i’m so anxious to journal because once i start every single emotion that i’ve felt over the last few months will come out even the stuff i haven’t told my therapist and i’m not sure i’m ready yet to let it out… i feel like i need a breaking point, or a push at least

the art of book covers

Just a girl, wrapped in a blanket, with the wind whistling and the rain storming outside, doing her research for her thesis, in a paratextual friendship with twenty-years-old Mary Shelley she will never know about because we are two centuries apart

HEARTBEAT 

She’s cold and chilling to the bone 

Hollow inside and out 

Airy and spacious 

She keeps my heart slow 

Awake I am 

But drowsy eyelids blink and blink 

I am in a poisonous trap, 

A smooth rhythm that is coming to an end. 

Harmonious, a voice so sweet to the ears. 

An unforgettable smile, diamond eyes. 

She keeps my heart warm that the sun is jealous 

Of her. 

Come on now, 

Don’t you know any better than to be messing with fate? 

Tick, tick, tick. 

Time ignores your presence, it has no hold on you. 

You don’t believe in destiny. 

Now it’s time to make the change.