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nervous like a dog i lower my head as i come to greet you. i can only actualize through your likeness, through your touch. love me, mother earth, with the gentle hand you give offer your children. love me, please, somebody love me.
nervous, kind of like a dog, i kiss your face. i’ve never been nervous around anyone before, i just was always kind of just nervous around myself. but you
but you
that’s what i always say: but you, my favorite exception
but you make me nervous. i don’t think it’s in a bad way, but rather in a natural way, like a human has ought to be nervous like a dog, cautious and slow, hesitant, but still excited to love, in order to survive. wound up but relaxed. scared but safe. anxious to give. i think that this is the right way to be. to be nervous, to be strung tight, but also to feel electric, to feel in the nerves. kiss my shoulder and i jolt, my back and i squirm, my, well my anything really, and i will lose focus. my electrochemistry, my feel of my own body, my understanding of who i am on a chemical level, is conducted by the girl i am in love with. bring me to life. please, oh please, let me live. breathe into me the words of old lovers and the grins of new faces. let me become divine through your touch. let me become.
to become a lover is to become something outside of yourself. i love vinyl and the soil, and so i will take this love inside of me from the outside world. i love stand up comedy, and so often i will tell a joke like people are watching. to love, and to internalize that love, is to be otherly: to become a mosaic. my body is almagate of record players and alligators and shitty punky bands and ottessa moshfegh novels and that is who i am.
to love is to be.
and i am scared i will never become you. not that i want to be you, but that i want to be like
it is nothing but natural to want to become like what you desire, to find her in yourself and suddenly become relieved to be the girl you are, and yet, nervous, like a dog, i greet your towering presence, scared i am not like enough, but beaming with the joy of being loved by the only individual.
Feb 13, 2025
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oh baby. i think im at an interesting angle when i read what you write, you’ve told me you can differentiate the two, girlfriend and writer, but i simply cannot. i read what you write with reference to the fact i am the only person out of hundreds of millions who sees you the second you wake up and the moment you go to bed. i love how loving you changes how i interpret what you write, and i love what you write, and i love what you are. great writing baby, and not to be patronizing - but i am proud. apt doesn’t cover it, you are something that will take a lifetime to understand, and i take that commitment as it is, my smart girl
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i didn't think they were when we first met. i mean, why would i? they were suave, confident, hot. filled to the brim with sticky hubris and emotion. but everyone has a vice, and the best of people keep theirs well hidden. so i find myself here, the place where all good characters begin-- in love. i definitely wasn't expecting it, but that's another story entirely.
i think insecurity is a cautious devil. like the fairy stories i was raised on, it's cunning, a trickster. it masquerades as many things- pride, confidence, and anger being the most prevalent flavors. my lover is none of these things, save maybe a bravado that only comes from finally having the courage to live truly as oneself after years of running. this bravado is enticing, but not necesarily a symptom. perhaps the greater fault is that i am entirely consumed by their personhood. i, like a crocodile on a winters day, bask in the sunlight of their soul. if my limbs were iron i would carve wheels from pure stone and a wagon of aged wood and use it to drag myself to their feet. yet, love is farsighted, and time has revealed the true deliciousness of their personhood rests on the facet that they too, are human.
so, we make our bed in the meadows and we fight our battles in the night. i speak more than i listen, they keep feelings like secrets. they shrivel and burrow to avoid, whereas i become louder to confront. our love is indeed an unlikely story. but i like it, and i want to make it. so, i find myself getting quieter, conceeding more. i let them win and ask them to decide. they do, and we fight sometimes. they would rather be disappointed than rejected. god, don't we all.
i speak in riddles and they in fact. maybe we are too different but we don't let it deter us, for we are far more the same than we could ever realize. still, when i speak plainly they assume puzzles, when i gently correct they quiver, when i say too much they internalize, communication rought by years of passive agressive parents and partners before me. i, who have known none of this, continue my ramblings, wanting only to share more of myself with my lover. i say the wrong thing. there is no wrong. i say things. they hurt.
i don't often mean it the way they take it. their interpretation is a faulty compass that rarely points to true north. sometimes the sheer polarity of their interpretation shocks me. i say i'm tired, they ask if i want them to leave. my direct mind cannot wrap around their curved one. if i wanted them to leave i would have asked. and i would never want such a thing. i say i am scared to become dull. they apologize for ruining me. i ask them what they want, they cannot give an anwer. insecurity is not a trait, it is a tyrant. i see them beneath the ruling scepter but i cannot budge them out from under it.
so i try to be gentle. i speak softly. i conceed. i give them exactly what they ask for. i have been trained on what to avoid. i wonder if this training is making me trickier, or more like the partners and parents that made them this way in the first place. i am no saint, i wish i could learn to shut my desperate eager mouth, a chore i have resisted and fought since childhood with the will and stubborness that remains unchanged. still i ache. the constant intent on misunderstanding me ages my soul. i feel the ache begging them from within my loving eyes. "see me as i am, lover," it cries, "please hear me as i am."
Jan 13, 2025
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I love you
because the Earth turns round the sun
because the North wind blows north
sometimes
because the Pope is Catholic
and most Rabbis Jewish
because the winters flow into springs
and the air clears after a storm
because only my love for you
despite the charms of gravity
keeps me from falling off this Earth
into another dimension
I love you
because it is the natural order of things
I love you
like the habit I picked up in college
of sleeping through lectures
or saying I’m sorry
when I get stopped for speeding
because I drink a glass of water
in the morning
and chain-smoke cigarettes
all through the day
because I take my coffee Black
and my milk with chocolate
because you keep my feet warm
though my life a mess
I love you
because I don’t want it
any other way
I am helpless
in my love for you
It makes me so happy
to hear you call my name
I am amazed you can resist
locking me in an echo chamber
where your voice reverberates
through the four walls
sending me into spasmatic ecstasy
I love you
because it’s been so good
for so long
that if I didn’t love you
I’d have to be born again
and that is not a theological statement
I am pitiful in my love for you
The Dells tell me Love
is so simple
the thought though of you
sends indescribably delicious multitudinous
thrills throughout and through-in my body
I love you
because no two snowflakes are alike
and it is possible
if you stand tippy-toe
to walk between the raindrops
I love you
because I am afraid of the dark
and can’t sleep in the light
because I rub my eyes
when I wake up in the morning
and find you there
because you with all your magic powers were
determined that
I should love you
because there was nothing for you but that
I would love you
I love you
because you made me
want to love you
more than I love my privacy
my freedom my commitments
and responsibilities
I love you ’cause I changed my life
to love you
because you saw me one Friday
afternoon and decided that I would
love you
I love you I love you I love you
Feb 11, 2025
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
Top Recs from @starbelly
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i am in love with my daughter who has not been born. i am obsessed with her despite the fact that she still lives inside my body and likely will for the next 10 years.
i am eating an orange peel. i am consuming the bitterness i have born to prepare for sweetness
where is all the sweetness at?
does anybody
want to share?
Feb 19, 2025
Feb 13, 2025
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yum yum yum!! eating fruit makes me so happy. it’s almost grounding, like i’m filling myself with the soil and earth it came from. no! i don’t want a lindor chocolate! no! i don’t want a tasty little treat that was concocted in a lab! i want a juicy little tangerine and a bowl of blueberries thank you very much. i think as the natural food we eat becomes more and more infused with the poison of man (be it through pesticides, processing, gmos, or mass production), the more i crave real connection through my food. give me fruit! good honest fruit, please!
Mar 4, 2025