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DailyI run like it is my religion for an hour at first like it is a vengeance and thenDaily
like it is an affliction.
At exactly six o'clock I step on the scale and let out all of my breath just in case the air inside of me holds any weight, and I pray to every minute that I just ran (two hundred and six) that when the numbers appear they will exemplify my dedication.
(I know I am not worthy of thin but maybe today it will be enough.)
I inhale a whisper 92.
At home &nbs
by ~a-poetry-whore
CutleryI am unloading the dishwasher when you come in.Cutlery
I am holding one of the plates your mother gave us and noticing how something heavy in my hands can also be so fragile.
Without even a hello you climb each stair as if the air inside is weighted a push you can't see but that announces itself the minute you step in.
The house has suddenly become smaller.
I hear the shower run and I turn on the sink and imagine you as you peel off your clothes starting with the powder blue tie I gave you for your last birthd
by ~a-poetry-whore
The First TimeWe are walking she and I and our stepsThe First Time
lag trying to
catch up with our words.
She wears bruises around her mouth like she's been kissing too hard or backtalking her dad or eating plums.
When I ask she just grabs my hand as if I'm leaving and I let her fingers get tangled in mine and I let the warm rush up from between my legs straight to my head that is suddenly sweating inside.
and I am very careful to notice nothing but the patterns of my skirt.
by ~a-poetry-whore
MitosisI was given my mother’s hair and temperament both wild and at times unmanageable.Mitosis
I did not receive her love of drink or inability to commit herself fully to anyone.
She fought every verbal battle (and it seemed as though they were sometimes so frequent) with a quick draw tongue that I also inherited but fail to employ as automatic-defense-mechanism at every sign of trouble.
For this I am my father’s daughter with a sense of humor 10 years out of style and a love for overthinking.
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by ~a-poetry-whore
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- Interests: tree houses. mountain ranges. places where things grow.
- Favourite band or musician: regina spektor. ani difranco. tori amos. ray lamontage. ryan adams.
- Favourite poet or writer: hempel. minot. robison. bausch. camus. kafka.
- Favourite photographer: knoth. hansen.
- Personal Quote: he who has a why to live for can bear almost any how. --nietzsche
- Tools of the Trade: this pen. my words. your ears.
- Email: KClodfel@gmu.edu
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR KIRSEY!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!
*blows party horn*
--
Let me tell you a secret... The Gods envy us. They envy us because we're mortal, because any moment may be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be more lovely than you are now. We will never be here again.
It's nearly 5:20 AM, and I am near dead, trying as hard as I can not to say something off.
I've spent a lot of time comparing things to try and write out exactly what you mean to me, the support and friendship you have given me even though I have been a terrible pessimist to know. I'll never be a cheer leader, though my day is bright and shiny every thought I have of you.
If time stood still like the pause I feel every moment I read the short, subtle, strikes of your virtual pen, the realization that your affliction and your self-critical title is so aptly labeled, understandable, ingenious -- I would take the time in blinks to never miss a scratch of detail.
-VV/G
thank you for your continual support and undying faith in my abilities.
thank you for your continual support and undying faith in my abilities.
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