Relationships of all kinds are tested with how they handle their first (or any?) fight.
I’ve had so few fights with friends. I wondered why before I realised that I’m usually ghosted first.
November 26, 2024
I’m not much of a woman
Maybe I’m half of one
My body has the shape
We’ve largely agreed to call female
My chromosomes are oblique crosses
I’m seeing double
Am I missing half of my mind?
I play life defensively
Guarding what I must within reason
I take inside when I choose to
I bleed
But it feels like I missed something
When they were handing out
Club membership cards
Where’s the rest of me?
I check the F box on forms
With confidence
But at the same time
I feel like I’m sitting outside of it
Looking in
November 26, 2024
Written while riding a highway during a road trip.
Blink blink blink blink blink
Get out of the passing lane
You fucking knob-head
She sits at a huge dining table
That was crafted amateurly
But with great care, in rich mahogany
Low warm lighting surrounds her
Stars twinkle through the windows
Her arms across her chest, she holds herself
Staring at an item on the table
Pondering
She remembers that she hates the smell of metal…
Those who plan their own demise can choose exactly how long to grieve their own end before they go.
I need to remember
To keep my defenses high
I need to remember
To guard my foolishly soft heart
I need to remember
To enjoy it guardedly when it’s here
I need to remember
How it hurt in the past when it’s gone
I need to remember
It always eventually leaves
November 24, 2024
They don’t like the word “deserving”
But they fear taking too much
They use different words
But I hear “undeserving” in their message
I ask…
A friend recently mentioned jealousy in a conversation, which got me thinking…
I don’t get jealous so much. I don’t hate others — I just can get very very sad if I lose something important, and internalize it. I have a problem with myself, not the other.
It was in the springtime when
I decided to do an important experiment
I had a hypothesis to test
…
Today I look at my hands
My tiny, small, woman’s hands
And run fingertips over the
Small callouses beginning to form
The skin beginning to dry
And crack in places
And I feel happy
For everything I can do now
All these things that younger me
Wouldn’t even dream of
November 22, 2024