09/365 | self, 2020.
10/365 | self, 2020.
11/365 | self, 2020.
13/365 | self, 2020.
14/365 | self, 2020.
19/365 | self, 2020.
20/365 | self, 2020.
21/365 | self, 2020.
22/365 | self, 2020.
25/365 | self, 2020.
26/365 | self, 2020.
28/365 | self, 2020.
29/365 | self, 2020.
30/365 | self, 2020.
“trying so hard
so hard
so
so hard
trying trying so hard
so hard
so hard
so hard
so…”
31/365 | self, 2020.
34/365 | self, 2020.
35/365 | self, 2020.
“people like us get so heavy and so lost sometimes / so lost and so heavy that the bottom is the only place that we can find / we get dragged down, down to the same spot enough times in a row / the bottom begins to feel like the only safe place that you know”
38/365 | self, 2020.
39/365 | self, 2020.
41/365 | self, 2020.
42/365 | self, 2020.
44/365 | self, 2020.
45/365 | self, 2020.
47/365 | self, 2020.
48/365 | self, 2020.
49/365 | self, 2020.
50/365 | self, 2020.
52/365 | self, 2020.
53/365 | self, 2020.
54/365 | self, 2020.
55/365 | self, 2020.
“Call my name and the whole woods
rise up inside me. I is a plural state
of being. Consider the multitude
before my footfall; how I’m able to crane my neck back,
see only myself”
57/365 | self, 2020.
64/365 | self, 2021.
self doubt beat my ass today. woke up to disappointing emails. nothing felt right or left-- a steady dullness just kind of ate at me.
we made it through though.
68/365 | self, 2021.
69/365 | self, 2021
a hungover sunday.
70/365 | self, 2021.
“I’m not dead, just floating...”
“I’ve fucked up and lived too long to come to grips / with the laws of chaos, still holding out my hopes / for catching rain: contents will manifest / or they won’t. I have large hands and the most / porous fists. I am the kind of cautionary poem / that no one anymore has the peacetime / to memorize. In my marrow screams a horse- / drawn savage. I was loved, to make matters worse.”
75/365 | self, 2021.