I don’t even wear underwear anymore. It hit me a couple weeks ago that for someone as lazy as I, underwear is sort of unnecessary. Just another thing to put on in the mornings. So I don’t. It’s my silent “fuck you” to everyone around me at all times. Like, when I’m put into social situations where I have to grin-and-bear-it through stupid bullshit conversation with people I don’t like, I just think to myself “You know what, it’s okay. Because I’m not wearing underwear and they don’t even have a fucking clue.” It’s awesome. And for emergencies I have a thong in my purse and my glove box at all times, like, that’s all you really need. I’m trying to get my friends on board but they’re not too thrilled by it…..yet.

And yes I typed this without any underwear on.

2:19 am  •  4 June 2012

I aged by the phone.
  Anchored to visions of a voice.
    Chained to words soft from a dream.
      And I let cool blue sheets of time drift past.
        Songs of tomorrow died, but I stayed aging by the phone.
          And you never called.
        You never called.
      You never.
    You.
         

8:45 pm  •  3 June 2012  •  8 notes

I’m weakened by the weekend.

The deepest parts of me have deepened.

The beginning starts to begin,

But I’m scared to let it seep in.

2:56 am  •  3 June 2012  •  1 note

Infinite dreams of you are soaked inside my pillow.
Infinite nights laid waste to your name. 

2:25 pm  •  1 June 2012  •  2 notes

Resting at the base of a sturdy oak tree, catching my breath.
Roots woven like welcoming arms, holding me above the green tide.
An ocean that’s not quite an ocean.
A human that’s not quite human.
Depersonalized, in alike forms.
And those arms wrap around me and I let them. Because there’s a mother in nature unlike any other.

1:22 am  •  30 May 2012  •  4 notes

I feel good in this dirty sweatshirt.

I feel good with the purr of 10 thousand lawn mowers outside.

I feel good thinking about tonight.

I feel good thinking about every night of the next three months.

I don’t feel good.

But I feel good.

8:08 pm  •  23 May 2012  •  2 notes

I don’t want tomatoes on my burger, but I don’t bother telling the cashier. One hand on the best pile of meat and cheese I’ve ever eaten ever, and the other on the steering wheel.

I always take this really sloppy country road when I’m alone. So I do. While my favorite cd, the one my ex-boyfriend made me for Christmas, blasts through my speakers (the cd being the only positive thing that came from our relationship)

I throw the tomatoes out my window into the pile of dust trailing behind me. First time I’ve littered in months, but Led Zeppelin made me do it. Blue and red lights. Fuck. Police. Fuck the police. …but not really. I pull to the side of the road.

“Ma’am, if you’re not going to eat the tomatoes, order your burger without them.” And a wink. He is God and I wish I was 10 years older, and had younger taste in guys. We talk. About summer, and he compliments the song playing. I silently thank my ex. “Just because of this song, I’m going to let you go. Have a nice day”. Another silent thanks.

I could never be a cop, because like him, I would let everybody off with a warning who had a good song playing on their stereo. 

8:06 pm  •  23 May 2012  •  3 notes

I’m sitting here getting ready for my last finals. Realizing what a wonderful and shit year this has been.

9:16 am  •  23 May 2012

I light a candle on the back porch, shadows dance on the cobblestone.

I sigh, and the wind sighs in response.

Faint tinklings from the piano inside tangle through our silence.

The air smells burnt and angry. The moon highlights the tips of the trees.

You light a cigarette, on purpose. You look into my eyes, on purpose.

With so much to say inside, but so little to say out,

I realize that no promise can be kept, besides the turn of the seasons.

10:37 pm  •  22 May 2012  •  4 notes