marguerite

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I collected bunnies when I was younger. I had lots of them - porcelain bunnies, stuffed bunnies, paper bunnies. What I remember most about them isn't their coloring or where I bought them or who gave them to me. TI remember that they always lost their left ear.

affection

I kissed his lips, sweet and slightly salty. I tasted the summer sun and the winter chill and the springtime breeze and the autumn colors. In the few moments that I felt his drunken affection, I felt alive, like I knew that I would never feel alive again. At least, not while he was sober.

affection

I felt great affection for him. You know, that love that you just can't imagine ever being without, that affection that you don't ever want to let him go. I felt great affection for her. You know, that kind of affection that one feels for a teddy bear. You love it for a while, then you give it away.

flakes

What's a snowflake? My daughter asked me this question one morning over a bowl of oatmeal. I wondered how to explain the wonder of snowfall to a child who lived in Nevada, but I could not grasp the words. So we colored instead.

flakes

I guess I always knew deep inside that he was a flake. I remember the morning so clearly - sitting at the kitchen table, pouring my cheerios into my glass bowl. But he scoffed at my cereal choice, and pulled out a box of cornflakes. Then he kissed me an promised he'd never leave. The next morning, he was gone. The cornflakes were still there, though.

writing since 2010 · 10 entries · 7 days shown up

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on this day 15 years ago

Marguerite wrote about existence
“I don't think I ever questioned why I existed. I always questioned if I existed. I always was that freak in high school.”

the words Marguerite reaches for

rememberaffectioncornflakesmorninglovebunniesscarskissedsnowflakeschildhoodstayflakyinsteadbowlgreatsun