I Don't Think It Would Be Hard To Love You

Excerpt from 'For you I am a child'

I couldn’t see the letters my hand formed, black against blue on black, but I knew they were there. After this blind exercise was completed, I returned the pen and wrapped my cold feet back into the blanket. Now, it was easy to fall asleep, and if I dreamed that night, I do not remember.

If a poem can be anything, I could’ve written anything. How to make avocados ripe, directions to a church of law, a vow, an elegy, how to rig a sailboat, fold a fortune teller, French inhale, sin, make good oatmeal, kiss without teeth, escape self-delusion, write a novel, give a blowjob, be less, be more, leave everything behind, get blood stains out of white sheets, hold eye contact, not get lost in New York City, find the nearest body of water, win at solitaire, be alone, write in dip pen, build a portal, be with others, float, harmonize, unlearn shame, learn guilt, . . .

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For you I am a child

My body A bag of rice Split open face-down I yawned Tasted cigarettes In the back of my throat Knew I’d ruin myself Again and again Made a h

Friendship

I listened to the whole of your three-page poem about the life you wanted to live. I cupped your dreams by my heart.

The gasp when the wind is knocked out of you. When you can't do anything but react. It's harder to stay quiet when you have to- the time I just had to smoke weed way past dusk boundaries and brought you with me and we lay on top of each other in the snow, your hand over my mouth because I was so high and each breath felt like a roar.

I brought you with me everywhere I went. Around my neck during hazy nights sprawled on the bathroom floor. Bad hookups where neither of us have had enough to drink. I'll never forget your face in the periphery of every memory.

Last summer I watched as you fell in the pool and your blood stained the water like little explosions. You were fine, it was just your foot, but afterwards we lay naked on the hot pool deck and you confided in me the things only I could hear, that sometimes still you wished you were dead.

I had no advice to give because I felt the same way. It was kind of funny. We've known each other for sixteen years but we're still right where we started. Looking towards the same future. The same people.

It really boils down to this.

BoJack Horseman, S3E8

I miss weheartit

On being weak

Rainy days, everyone is equal. Everyone's pant cuffs soaked, smokers under awnings. We're all missing somebody else.

I basked in idleness like a dog in light. I saved myself.

Things healed and plants grew and if I die here or not litters will still be born. I could be born with them.

Hi im Sophie I like silver jewelry quiet eyes and soft hair. Hot wax and mad cats and a good saxophone solo, I like friends who love me and I like to love; I like to be alone. Empty bathrooms a safe crowd a 1950s fire escape just out of Manhattan from where I can see the stars. I like a rickety thing, unsafe sex, breaking a searching gaze. I like a stranger, a stranger in a big city, a boring kind of stranger to whom things don’t happen; and I like playing a part, a person to whom nothing happens, nothing at all.

The most beautiful girl I know is sleeping in my bed

It's the dead of night and I have my whole life ahead of me

School's started

I drink at least one iced matcha latte with oatmilk a day

I'm in love with my teacher

All this expectation is a knife!!

Getting worse and better and worse and better and worse and better and worse and better and worse and better and worse and better and worse and better and worse and better and worse and better

I recreate situations in the Sims 4 to feel some grasp of control over them

It's Saturday and I'm smoking out my bedroom window again.

A lyric is stuck in my head: the end is closer every second than it's ever been right now.

I wonder that dying is the only thing I'll never be able to control. I find it hard to believe that I won't be scared.

I know that's why people believe in God— because they're scared. I don't really have anything to believe in; maybe the air bubbles in oil, adrenaline, a first draft.

I want to believe in something that's worthy of it. But I haven't found anything like that yet.

Myself, maybe?