I cannot decipher the smell of my skin from the bedsheets. Or is it just the scent of morning? The smell of a Thursday morning, what does it want from us? What does Thursday morning smell like to children? In Mom’s house? Dad’s house? What does it want?
Category: Poetry
Good Debt
Every meal Every boiling kettle Every abandoned dish Every ice cream cone Every walk Every untied shoelace Every glass of water Every drive Every load of laundry Every movie Every evening Every moment that you spend alone creates debt and God watches it accumulate, waiting for the day to pay you back.
Reading in the car causes headaches
Once, while they were driving, Lucy told her dad that she felt like the adult in their relationship. He drove out of traffic, into the parking lot of a dentist office and yelled at her for feeling this way. He told her all the reasons why she was wrong, all the reasons why she was [...]
In terms of the way a to-do list is genre
Go to yourself fully and never inquire again. Put a little bit of skin into the painting, step away, and cock your head. Check it off the to-do list and move on. Stop lingering baby girl. Start moving from top to bottom without thinking too much. Start moving like a woman. Take a back bend [...]
