generally
Carve into asphalt ruts again, know them better than my own skin. Immediately I am seventeen on another midnight drive home; my headlights make all the same old shadows. Pink Bullets in my mind, but Pine Hill puts the hole in my chest. I hope you still love that remodeled A-frame, your dream that came… Continue reading I Was Walking With a Ghost
It still surprises me, these traces when I find them, shallow enough to feel them, my veins of Fool’s gold that shouldn't be unmapped, untapped. Parts of me still holding onto the parts of you that hurt me, like if I can feel it long enough it'll be worth it, like my longevity gives your… Continue reading Betrayed
There is just nothing beautiful in winter that I can see, or feel, or write into a warm meaning. I don't know how. And there is nothing beautiful in the things you did, and said, and I could write about it, paint blood into art– I do know how. But how dare I make meaning… Continue reading some things
that you unfurled, like a flower, petals as gentle as life was not. what was knotted, hardened, twisted up tight– is undone, falling about, loose, light, peony rich. that you, delicate, soft, feel like home, after being away awhile. that you are as bloom, now, as you were bud, with us. I hope there's so… Continue reading I hope death healed you
In the aftermath of heartbreak, when you're barely walking through rubble that stays longer than you'd think, but watering the wreckage with every one of your own tears doesn't put anything where or how or the way it was, not even a little bit, in fact, every day it looks less like you remember, or… Continue reading Entropy
melissa suarez I've only ever sat on roofs with boys I never kissed, never dated, never said the things we might've felt in the air up there, just nice kids sitting on roofs, looking at night skies, growing up together. I think we talked about music, maybe you had a drink, when I look right… Continue reading June
Grief doesn't kill us. (though of course it should) It hurts just enough to shatter a human heart, but not enough to stop its beating, while the things that actually kill a person wouldn't be worth mentioning, otherwise. How stupidly like milk we are, to just expire when some date arrives. melissa suarez
melissa 