I always hide a baseball bat under my bed just in case someone breaks into my home in the middle of the night and wants to play some ball.
I dreamt I had a daughter and I fell in love more than I could ever fall in love for any other girl.
And I’m 21. Too weird. Too weird.
I want you to live a happy life, there’s no doubt in that. But I always thought that, in the end, I was going to be taking care of you, as you rested ill on our bed. I still do.
But the way you transformed me into a stranger makes me think otherwise:
I want you to be sad when it’s your birthday and I’m not surprising you with your favorite dessert, balloons and kisses.
I want you to think of me when you are at a restaurant and it’s not me the one holding your hand while the waiter serves us the most expensive champagne.
I want you to remember the day you got tired of me. The same day I went to your house because you were badly injured. I could see it in your eyes. I thought I was trying too hard, but you fell from those aerial silks and I was worried and I wanted to help you. It’s as if you wanted me to be cruel. As if you wanted me to never show up. But I did.
And perhaps that’s the worst mistake I’ve ever made. But I’ll tell you one thing: I’ll do it all over again. Because I always thought I was going to be the one taking care of you when you were old, resting ill on our bed. And I still do.
The shore is the first page
and it’s salty as her lips.
In this book filled with rage
I will try not to quit.
The first chapter tells stories
of loud laughs and quiet whispers.
Kids running from cold, white tides
People making love inside at night.
Her body’s a pale white ocean
Secrets colored dark blue hidden within.
More than ninety-five percent remains unexplored
I may try to go underwater.
It is cold and also scary,
so is everything that is unknown.
But it gets warm and usual,
now we are able to feel.
Her hair is seaweed minus green
Her eyes are pearls never found
Her mouth, a kiss from death;
I think I’m going to drown.
My lungs are filled with water
My heart is out of blood
I can’t be here any longer
For now it’s time to breath
Dip your pen into your arteries and write.William Allen White (via bookishleaves)
Mysogyny truly scares the shit out of me.
I’m a feminist because I may have a daughter one day.