When you proposed you didn’t have a ring, and it was not pancakes, it was egg. It was not fairytale-like or slow paced romantic. It was late morning and you smelled like penicillin. Your hair was crazy curls and you hadn’t shaved for like a week. You blurted, “what if you changed your name into Mrs.C.” I was stunned, offended, my egg burnt. I said you can’t say things like that, smelling like that, looking like that. First take a shower, get a ring, and ask on bended knee. You said nonchalantly: my knees hurt.
there’s no point (anymore) chasing the closure you want . the closure you deserve is never going to happen. there will be no better endings, they just are.
no one knows how to tell other people that they’re exhausted.
When you are living in a house where guilt is alive, it leaves a mark.
And when you are living in an atmosphere of daily, ever-present guilt, what does that do to children? It changes their souls.
i think a lot about your eyes
…and how painful it is to be
in a room full of people with such
empty pockets and words that are
so heavy i cannot lift them from
you are the greatest secret
if i could i would hold you between
my hands like morning.
no one agrees but she’s me in my wedding dress
no one agrees but we both know she looks like me
no one should know but we both know the truth
i have too much to keep
too little to share
too vague to make clear
too soft for a love like yours
feels like daisy
and you, Jay
and i, Zelda
did we not drift onto
and a simple thing
when it ticks
where you don’t belong.
and it keeps ticking
as i run along.
…because friendship and intimacy are subjective, and there isn’t a widely used scale researchers share to define those concepts across studies. Closeness can be particularly squishy.
today i mourn for the things i never get to explain, left unsaid, silenced under pressure. i wish i don’t remember them so vividly.
Let’s keep this love a secret. Let’s forget all about it and pretend it never happened. And years from now you can smile that smile that did me in years ago and I will let you sweep me off my feet and under the rug once again.
Crumbs, Diana Perry
I looked at your face while you were sleeping and this habit of mine I could not seem to let go. You looked so peaceful and pretty. What is it about you that got me feel like I was coming home?
If we’re a couple of peasants in the southern of France, I’d pick out berries with you and bake pies, bear your babies.
You opened half of your left eye and smiled. But you didn’t want to embarass me so you pretended to go back to sleep.
You’re just so sweet.