at a pool party
"hey bukowski no offense but why dont you take your shirt off in the pool"
"why do we run from the rain but soak in tubs full of water"
"aight take it easy man"
im not ignoring your snapchats, im just too ugly to reply at the moment
You loved a poet who smokes menthol cigarettes. You loved the popular girl in school. You loved someone who stuck her fingers down her throat as penance for feeling pleasure, but was afraid of popping pimples. You loved a hair straightener, a cat lady, a drawer full of prescription pill bottles. You loved a little girl. You loved a lost puppy. You loved a dry addict. You loved a lot of dry skin. You loved loud rap music. You loved ramen noodles with the water poured out. You loved Dior mascara stained cheeks, white grape White Owl wrappers, a black SUV with a broken air conditioner. You loved fake flowers. You loved teenage catch phrases. You loved the never-had-a-job, always-had-a-therapist, not-a-bitch-to-fuck-with baby. You loved a false prophet. You loved a bottle of rum marked “truth serum”. You loved high heels in the kitchen. You loved barefoot on the highway. You loved a Breakfast at Tiffany’s afternoon overdose (please don’t call an ambulance everything is fine). You loved vertigo, osteopenia, and a laundry list of mental diagnoses. You loved red. You loved grammar. You loved cliches. You loved me.
Why do you aspire to be a flower?
You are not some over-romanticized, delicate flower; a daisy or a rose.
You are a dandelion; you bloom bright, but at your core you are a weed.
You grow, thrive actually, in places where those beautiful roses would wither and die.
You are not invincible, but you sure as hell will not go down…
remember when I wrote this in a hotel room in Hawaii at 1am and Kim my writing queen liked it and it made me so happy
Got accepted to study abroad next fall
I’m going to fucking live in Switzerland for a semester