Daydreaming - Lupe Fiasco 824
“Daydream, I fell asleep beneath the flowers, for a couple of hours, on a beautiful day”
He told me I didn’t belong here, as if he did.
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Stop
Stop I stopped thinking about your smile, last night. I stopped imagining our relationship passed its expiry date. I’ve learned to remember it as it were and not what it could have been— You with her, me with you, and you with me. I finally let it be what it was and not what it... Continue Reading →
There were riots within us, the kind that went on all night; By dawn we were turbulent and there was no love.
817 I was a riot girl who fell for a peaceful boy. I fought for the sake of fighting In a crowd of small people Wanting to overthrow a big man. I had relationships, And sex, With angry people, passionate about a cause I cared nothing about. I was a succubus for passion and purpose.... Continue Reading →
Ghosts
Is it possible for a dead person Who is alive, To be a ghost? Because sometimes I see you, Dark haired and laughing near a train, And you vanish into a stranger Going Northbound. Daddy is that you? Sitting on my bed And tipping over paint cans And opening closed doors, And leaving me coins... Continue Reading →
Sensitivity
I'll dwell on a simple expression you made with indifference, Or the structure of a sentence you said to me. I'll think of the way you walked by me without words, And declined my invite and company. I'll relive the moment when you said you were too busy, And too broke, Or too lazy to... Continue Reading →
Dreams
I never used to remember what happened in my dreams, Or dwell on them when I awoke. But lately, the images within them have become More vivid and disturbing Than ever before. Suddenly, I am back in relationships with bad boyfriends Who I've forgotten both love me and hate me. I even fall for their... Continue Reading →
New Characters?
I've been struggling with the aesthetic of the characters for a while now and I've constantly asked myself How should I bond the character with it's character poetry? I've gone from numbering each line of poetry and printing its corresponding number on the back of the characters, to simply writing down the poem in a book.... Continue Reading →
End of the Month: An excerpt from Porridge: A Memoir
"I'd be good to you," he says to me over bites of sushi and spilled soy sauce. "I'm good to me," I tell him and stare down at my roll. I hopped off a bus less than an hour ago to visit a city I had once been so connected to. The boy I am... Continue Reading →
Famous Last Words 