🦢
from a writer i follow on twitter. linked to their profile. posted only a few minutes ago but it's already done something crazy to me. i love when people create things from their own life at the exact time i am enduring them
"i racked my brain for weeks over how i could have breathed to keep you here. my conclusion is that there is none"
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🦢
Did you too see it, drifting, all night, on the black river?
Did you see it in the morning, rising into the silvery air –
An armful of white blossoms,
A perfect commotion of silk and linen as it leaned
into the bondage of its wings; a snowbank, a bank of lilies,
Biting the air with its black beak?
Did you hear it, fluting and whistling
A shrill dark music – like the rain pelting the trees – like a waterfall
Knifing down the black ledges?
And did you see it, finally, just under the clouds –
A white cross Streaming across the sky, its feet
Like black leaves, its wings Like the stretching light of the river?
And did you feel it, in your heart, how it pertained to everything?
And have you too finally figured out what beauty is for?
And have you changed your life?
Oct 1, 2024
just found this track on spotify and i think it's just beautiful, speaks about extending yourself to someone and letting fear just be, not letting it control you but not suppressing it either. it really speaks to my life right now, trying to be genuine for someone without overwhelming myself.
--
Your fingers laced in mine like five tourniquets,
stopping empty words that flow from my empty nervous lips, your fingers like tourniquets.
I'm enjoying the silence like this, i can hear the sound of your lips as you read me Robert Frost.
And silence cross fades into a bliss that has stuck with me this week, the sound of Frost on your Lips, "Not Even The Rain" you say as you read me E.E. Cummings.
I read Kevin Fitzpatrick yesterday, he talked about reading poems to his partner Tina, she was moving to a farm in Northern Minnesota.
A tourniquet is that look that you give when you're right where you're supposed to be, and i know there's so many places to be. And i've never met someone who is at so many at once, even sometimes gracefully, even sometimes gracefully.
Gracefully, you tell me about New York, gonna see Bruce Springsteen on broadway, i kiss you in some Portland driveway, you say sorry for being so many places at once, you wanna feel grounded with me,
I say i don't wanna be your rock i want to be your sea legs
If you move on will you at least give me a five star yelp review so i can be friends with your friends, my collar for your tears, my sleeve for your snot, a bout of crying as you tell me about fear of loss and giving
which leads to loss
which leads to fear
making it hard to give
your fingers laced in mine like five tourniquets, stopping words that we'd forget, i won't forget that look that you give,
tie it above the wounds, i've had a rough month or two, you're like my sea legs. making out in some Portland Strangers driveway, gettin dizzy as we stumble the long way to my house, the feeling of motion as we lay still in my bed and you read me Frost and Cummings and Elliot, the feeling of motion as i lay still and you show me:
how to put a moment on a page, i hang some pictures up at my new place you light the sage, your spirits lift the room higher and higher i let some dire feelings of loosing you burn with the sage i put you on pages and pages of moments and moments
I got nothing to hide, you tell me about your friend Joseph who see's through peoples lies.
Sometimes you hid behind your eyes
making it much more potent when i see right through them, and i see right through them
I let fear of you moving on burn with the sage, i put silent moments of your tourniquet fingers on the page, and i listen to your breathing and the sounds of kids playing at the school across the street as we lay through the afternoon. My collar for your tears my sleeve for your snot, some happy crying as we leave behind fear of loss, only giving, which led me here, in your arms, without fail, over moments and moments, and pages, and again only moments which lead me here in your
Dec 25, 2024
i haven’t been sleeping very well lately.
i’ve gotten into the routine of napping around 5:30, waking up at 8:30, going back to bed at 2.
i’ve been in a rut lately too. academically, intellectually. i think i, ironically, have forgotten just how to be.
let me tell you about my day tomorrow. i got this starburst flavored c4 that im excited to drink, and ive started to write poetry in french, which, is funny, given the level to which i speak the language really only allows me to say profound things like “ i love to go to the butchery “
but its relaxing.
i am allowed to just be.
be bad at poetry.
not understand french repetition, or linguistics.
i am a novice, and i am just that.
i see my girlfriend tomorrow, i’m excited to spend the night, it’s been a hot minute since ive gotten to lay next to her. i miss her bed, and her stuffed animals. she has this one- she calls it Wolfie. it’s a really sweet story, actually. she had two of the identical little plushies - and the only differentiation was that Wolfie, god bless, had a distinctive smell to him. she saw this very, when you take into account they were otherwise exactly the same, minuscule little trait, which for her was enough for them to truly be individual.
we have plans, valentine’s day plans, but she won’t tell me what. i hate surprises, truly, but i love her. shes taught me to appreciate a lot of the things i hated, like
mannequin pussy
emo bands
pda
ambition
and i do now, without a doubt, love these things with all my heart. i think it’s normal to hate things you feel you’re not good at, or other people are better at.
i can’t ride a bike.
i put off driving for a year.
and it makes me so insecure. i think the people around me love to give me the benefit of the doubt. that i am smart, capable, confident
but it is easy to be smart capable and confident in your own element, especially when that element allows you to communicate your insecurities, it becomes a paradox.
to communicate is to not - and the absence of communication is communication within itself.
my sister was angry at me today, and she said
“molly, you’re not any smarter than me, you just talk better.”
and i really do wonder if she was right
i wanna tell you guys about a new artist ive been researching. alex colville. he (painted from the 50s to the 70s, but the pretty large consensus actually) opinion is that they look a lot like 2000s early graphics. this one isn’t my favorite - just the most illustrative. i’ll post it in the morning. ( i love promises like that )
i like it. it makes me itchy, nervous, like
i’m back on the sims 3 and clicked the speed up button and cried and cried because my sims would never get those four hours back.
Feb 13, 2025
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Feb 24, 2024
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they're just some guy. but they're also cute and nice and make u feel admired and don't judge u for all the things u judge urself for. u can show them all your favorite things and learn all of theirs and also u can kiss them
Apr 23, 2024
Dec 19, 2024