In The Future, Children Will Think Our Ways Are Strange. "Why Do Old People Always Grow So Much Milkweed

In the future, children will think our ways are strange. "Why do old people always grow so much milkweed in their gardens?" they'll say. "Why do old people always write down when the first bees and butterflies show up? Why do old people hate lawn grass so much? Why do old people like to sit outside and watch bees?"

We will try to explain to them that when we were young, most people's yards were almost entirely short grass with barely any flowers at all, and it was so commonplace to spray poisons to kill insects and weeds that it was feared monarch butterflies and American bumblebees would soon go extinct. We will show them pictures of sidewalks, shops, and houses surrounded by empty grass without any flowers or vegetables and they will stare at them like we stared at pictures of grimy children working in coal mines

I spoke to god and shes a teenage girl

She’s telling me about K-pop. Was it Jennie or Jung-kook?

I don’t remember and I don’t really get it but she’s so excited so I listen.

Next she begins to show me the dance sequences. They look complicated. And she tells me all about how she and her friends are going to dance together.

I ask how long I’m going to live for.

She says, how tf should I know.

And then she starts telling me about a girl named Marie. She hates Marie. Hates the way Marie holds herself, the way Marie chews her pencils, the way Marie laughs as if she’s been kicked in the teeth.

She hates Marie so I do too.

My hamster dies tragically as they all do. Escaped onto the road and driven over. When she finds out, she mourns.

Her cries make her body convulse, like she's giving up some part of herself. Her sobbing is so loud it rattles the braces on my teeth.

She cries over my hamster’s body for 5 days and when I bury him, she delivers a eulogy so beautiful I’m almost thankful he did die, just so I could hear her speech.

When my grandma gets cancer, I demand an answer from her. Why didn’t she tell me?

She shrugs and says everyone has their time and goes back to scrolling on tiktok.

I pass my exam with a grade so good it’s shocking for mediocre me and she congratulates me.

At my congratulatory dinner, she makes it all about herself and says our friendship was the driving force behind my good grade.

I grab her and pull her into the bathroom, where I slap her so hard there are nail marks on her cheek.

She looks in the mirror, peeved I ruined her lipgloss.

When my first boyfriend cheats on me, I cry so much in her arms that I think I’ve cried enough to fill the Atlantic sea.

She corrects me and tells me it’s closer to The Red Sea.

I ask if I deserved this, she doesn’t answer. I ask if there's something wrong with me, she doesn’t answer. I ask if I am unlovable, she doesn’t answer.

I ask her why she didn’t respond to my last text, she says she was busy.

One day we’re eating ice cream together on a warm summer day, her rum raisin, me elderflower and I ask her what I should do to please her.

She considers the question, humming and haaing on it. Then she tells me, go to the deepest darkest part of the ocean and bring me back one of those funny looking sea creatures.

I ask if she’s being serious and she says she always is.

When i'm dying and we see each other again, she first tells me about all my wrinkles and gray hairs and recommends a guy she knows that could help with that.

Are we going to be together forever now, I ask?

She wrinkles her nose at that and says no, you bring down the vibes.

Tags

writing god poetry poem original poem Toxic relationship? religious trauma religious imagery religious art god is a girl unhealthy relationships

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thediagnosedweeb

2 months ago

her: she must be thinking about other women

what i’m thinking about: louis! what? WHAT? it’s morning. i lost time. things got a little heated- with a boy! things got heated with a boy. i was at home picking lint off the sofa- i said to join us! the night’s gone, the room’s soiled, and once again i’m sat here with mop and mindlessness to clean it up. so the room got dirty, so what? i’ll clean it up. no, i clean it up! you make the mess, and i clean it up! mark it on the calendar, align it with ursa major, louis’ tri-annual FUCK OFF AND FIND ME with apologies to follow. i’m sorry. to seek comfort in the arms of lowlifes, and unfortunates, and broken children? fine. oh fine? fine. it doesn’t sound like fine. BUT REVEALING OUR NATURE TO A REPORTER YOU MET IN A BAR TEN HOURS AGO? what if it was published? I WAS HAVING SOME FUN! like we don’t have enough to fear after paris- i was in the middle of ending things when YOU- no, you nearly passed out on the floor next to him, louis! out on your feet from the drugs you stuffed him with- oh this is boring! you’re boring! YOU ARE SO BORING! and here come the drugs. COLORLESS. up the fangs. FLAVORLESS. down the throat. DULL. into the heart and off the fingers, feet, and wallowing brain. DULL NIGHTS, DULL WEEKS, DULL MONTHS, DULL AS FUCK! suffocation by the world’s softest, beige-est pillow. the ten hours i spent with that boy were more exciting, more fascinating than DECADES with you. oh there it is, the half-blank, half-apocalyptic look. but what does it mean tonight, huh? does he wanna lick my boots, or chop my hands off? is it the gremlin or the good nurse tonight, huh? okay, okay, perhaps. but am i as boring as the blather committed onto the ferric tapes of your FASCINATING boy? oh, oh it’s so hard to be me! picking lint off the sofa? it’s so hard to kill humans! i can feel their feelings as i drain them! louis de pointe du lac, it’s so hard to be me! everyone i know wronged me! okay, okay, let’s wake the boy up and let’s try you. i’m the vampire armand and my daddy vampire groomed me into a little BITCH! my brother, he tossed himself off a roof- but the vampires have heard of my daddy- my sister, she buried me alive! so he made me pretend i didn’t have a dick for 240 years. my daughter was my sister was my throw pillow. well he wouldn’t look at me kindly, lestat, lestat, lestat, lestat, lestat, lestat, lestat, lestat, lestat, lestat, lestat- I TALKED SHIT ABOUT HIM THE WHOLE TIME-THE NAME! THE NAME, UNUTTERED IN OUR HOME FOR 23 YEARS SAID OVER AND OVER AGAIN UNTIL IT WAS POUNDING IN MY BRAIN LIKE A HAMMER! our problems aren’t about HIM! and you threw HER name around just for cover, but it always circled back to him. i loved her. BUT SHE DIDN’T LOVE YOU! not like he did, not like i have. i know. I KNOW!

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thediagnosedweeb

5 years ago

MAILING ADDRESS

Town of Tusayan

P.O. Box 709 | 845 Mustang Drive

Tusayan, AZ 86023 PHONE +1 (928) 638-9909

Mayor Craig Sanderson

mayorsanderson@gmail.com

Vice-Mayor Becky Wirth

tusayan.rwirth@gmail.com

Councilor | Brady Harris

Tusayancouncilharris@gmail.com

Councilor | Al Montoya

almtusayan@hotmail.com

Councilor | Robb Baldosky

robb@tusayanaz.com

if you don’t have time to write an email, here’s a pre-written letter: https://pastebin.com/Cc3YBWYA

just copy, add your name, and send the email to a town member!

Please do! Corporations are the biggest criminals of climate change, environmental damage and pollution. Capitalism is rooted in destruction.

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thediagnosedweeb

6 months ago

hey guys do you ever think about how kirk is married to his ship (a noble and logical machine that has a heart that burns as hot as a star) and spock is married to starfleet (the idea of facing the vast and unknown universe with kindness, fairness, and courage)?? I do. I think about it. I think about it a lot.

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thediagnosedweeb

5 years ago