general guidance for myself

this is the result of
chasing shiny things like a demented
crow and
open your head open your head your head let out the
jealous stuttering
child, kicking at mirrors and
throwing fits (you


this isn’t anything you want
and you know you always end up
(oh that word’s a reputation killer)
nine tenths of what you can’t have
(careless, care less, and anyways, most things

birds have more self control
perhaps and

I’ve been there, caged/uncaged
but now I settle for stripes
and leave the feathers to the
drag queens

here it is
nothing worth having
comes easy

nothing worth having
comes at all
so I was feeling sad-ish because I couldn’t have what I wanted to have but hey! there’s a few billion other fish in this crazy pond and
I just had the best day ever.  love Fargo.  love swing-sets, the river, and snowball fights when everything’s melting.  Also I realized that I overthink my writing wayyy too much.  I need to just let it spill out in an obscure mess because that’s when I end up liking it the most.  I edit and edit and edit which kind of kills it.  This one I like though.
and here is some slug for you:

“and if she has the nerve to let me drop a couple last words, I’ma turn to the earth and scream
Love Your Life”


listening to emo music from my childhood.  take a gander (listen?)

and you’re probably addicted to all types of escape

there are things growing
in my fridge or
brain at
as though I have wasted everything

I am one year older
and all the constellations speak of a
wildness my feet have dreamed
of touching since I learned how to
consume ink

the future is yanking my name
from his bucket of things to do
the map above my bed screams
so loud
the nails fastening it to the wall
suddenly sharp in my lungs
my shaking hands know only three words

I’m a closet claustrophobic
addicted to a future of
plane-ticket elsewheres

halfway between the here and
desperate to be lost
before my passport expires
I hang out with too many foreigners.  Last night my friend told me he could possibly get me a job teaching English in Bahrain next year…. Now THAT is the kind of thing that changes everything.  I really don’t think it will happen.  I can’t.  Things never work out and it’s doubtful this will either.  Plus it would be REALLY dangerous to live there, especially as a woman.

and then the God-Please-Kill-Me-Right-Now hits.

just submitted a confessional poetry piece for my poetry class

(SPOILER ALERT:  Melodrama)  I am so nervous.  baring my soul to a class full of strangers…. ughhh I feel like puking.  It’s a decent poem though.


maybe I can just live as if I’m being reborn every moment.  no past, no regrets, just endless future.

I don’t think the quality of this is very good.  just look it up on spotify.

i’m a mess, happy or otherwise, depending on the day.