well *wipes tears* *takes a hit* *coughs for 5 minutes* *takes a swig of water* *takes a painkiller* *takes another swig of water* *pauses music* im living deliciously
“Well, of course I’ve tried lavender. And pulling my memory out, ribbonlike and dripping. And shrieking into my pillow. And writing the poems. And making more friends. And baking warm brown cookies. And therapy. And intimacy. And pictures of rainbows. And all of the movies about lovers and the terrible things they do to each other. And watching the ones in other languages. And leaving the subtitles off. And listening to the language. And forgetting my name. And feeling the dirt on my skin. And screaming in the shower. And changing my shampoo. And living alone. And cutting my hair. And buying a turtle. And petting the cat. And traveling. And writing more poems. And touching a different body. And digging a grave. And digging a grave. Of course, I’ve tried it. Of course I have.”
Okay, but what is your mom’s hyperfixation? I feel like those are weirder and more ghoulish than the typical dad hyperfixation. Anyway, my mom’s are: The Lindbergh Kidnapping, Patty Heart and what I can best summarize as “Lawsuits between members of the Johnson & Johnson Family from the 1870s to Tila Tequila”
@poetryatmost / raymond carter / eileen myles / a month of changes by emility / olivia larson @poetbitesback / the months by linda pastan / tuck everlasting by natalie babbitt / dear august / morning sun by edward hopper / e.j.l. / sue monk kidd
