January 2012
5 posts
There is more to give
than coffee-stained silence
and second-hand lines
stuttered apologies
and sloppy rhymes—
to reach
the narrow confines
of our hearts.
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Note
I often say the word fuck when I get really stressed and feel that the world is unfair. It gives me a sense of calmness knowing that I have managed to do something evil by cussing.
In those moments, I am no longer a caged bird.
So I say, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Goodbye, goody-goody me.
Solitude is good.
I need space; the tightness in my ribcage wouldn’t let my heart pound.
I lost my free-writing notebook in which I’ve written some personal entries. I don’t know what to feel, to be honest.
