octocoffee

octocoffee

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Probably it won't happen again. Probably you will tell me "never again, this is the last time." Probably you won't pull me aside in a quiet alleyway and kiss me like that again. Probably I won't touch the emptiness inside of you again, and grasp at it, hoping it'll touch my own emptiness, in desperation.

in the pools something in me touched you reflected in the water and i could feel you shiver, watched it ripple we both grew cold as we recognized the slow burn somewhere deep

arch

church arches Gothic and ancient did you ever think we could find God here? I don't believe in your God but in the arch of her back and the way her eyes roll we are finding something together lost somewhere between the two of us.

diasporic longing, roots beyond the sea, but i want to love the ocean too even if it separates me from the me, the many mes I could have been, longing like sadness longing like joy longing like the lonely boat rides from the prisons just off the shore

bland

bland, a lack of flavor, perhaps color, is that a bad thing? some days yes but some days everything hurts so much and a little less feels better

we were splayed on the sand and i thought we were falling in love that magic eight balls were honest and we could tell each other little nothings and maybe one day they'd mean something more than nothing i should have kissed you that day by the ocean shore and we should have kissed goodbye the waves reflected neither of us and i should have looked but it was so much more lovely to look into your eyes and all those illusions

kaleidoscopes rolling down a hill that's what life feels like when i'm running when i'm breathing when i'm falling in love fractals smashed and tumbling i think i see more of you now

i wanted to know you, wanted you to know me and all you saw was a travel brochure, exotic, exxxotic, jungle and that yellow fever, i was a risk you were willing to take but all i wanted was a you to call home

if it melted and lost all its shape, i thought we would lose everything. i thought that if we held each other too close, the heat would be too much. i thought we were icarus and the sun, and even now i feel the wax dripping down my arms, and i mean that.

there was nothing graceful in you, no ballet in your desperation but i liked the way your nails dragged across my back

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writing since 2010 · 92 entries · 92 days shown up

each square is a day—lit means Annie showed up.

4longest streak

92days written

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on this day 15 years ago

Annie wrote about bulb
“She brushed the dirt away, gently, and pulled the bulb out. Ariadne gave a confused expression. "What are you doing?" She held it in her hands, examining its lines and light color. "It's not time …”

the words Annie reaches for

eyesstaredloveheadnowhairlaughedarmshandstouchprobablymomentfaceskyhandheld