i spend days in bed debilitated by loss i attempt to cry you back but the water is done and still you have not returned i pinch my belly till it bleeds have lost count of the days sun becomes moon and moon becomes sun and i become ghost a dozen different thoughts tear through me each second you must be on your way perhaps it’s best if you’re...
i tend to collect objects i never find an occasion special enough to use. fancy scented candles and, especially, bubble bombs. i buy them and i keep them for a bath deserving of this indulgence. the latter, i actually used just once. after a nicely crafted dinner, scented candles, the most passionate sex plus a very legal and powerful joint. but the only way i got to explain just how special the...
i wonder what makes a woman pay to have herself be put out. her body cut open. her face cut open. pieces taken out. pieces put in, and skin sewn together. just to please a man. i wonder if it helped. i wonder if it’s because of what you said to her when you were angry. and what could possibly convince her she was a slut. (and then make her personally go and convince others – her...
we started our story drenched in blood we didn’t care, it was fun and on a pool of blood we remain. you never physically hurt me but i always bled. once, for weeks on end. one day i woke up with a black eye, mysteriously. (in LA, do you remember?) funny because it was the day i started reading signs that you were hurting me to my back. i still didn’t knew but my body did. maybe it was...
as coisas não iam bem há dias, talvez semanas. era hora de ter A conversa que eu ensaiei na véspera e agora acontecia no sofá. todos as minhas previsões pessimistas se concretizaram. não dava mais, era o fim? deitei na cama em prantos e, para fugir da dor, dormi. acordei apavorada. você estava lá, do meu lado, vigilante: -vamos pedir uma pizza antes de eu ir? estava esperando você acordar, estou...
I did you nothing. Nothing but my angry words to cause you pain. I never took what ~I know~ hurt you the most, what almost killed you and caused you endless sleepless nights – taking your most precious possession, your sense of self and reality – and ground my sweaty body with it to feed my own pleasure and ego (holding it tight as you sounded slept and I wept trying to find you). I...
vamos falar sem escolher palavras, sem cuidar de métrica? o que aconteceu na última noite eu vou precisar de dias pra processar. tempo pra extrair tudo o que significou e, principalmente, coragem para botar em registro, pra sabe-se lá quem ler mas preciso, preciso digerir. preciso, um dia, entender. enquanto isso, já tenho por onde começar. o material que meu inconsciente me deu nas poucas horas...
So, there’s you. I sat on this sentence. Had a drink, read half a magazine, watched the news. But this sentence hung there: There’s you. You are real. Of course I could have made you up. I sure would draw you just the same: perfect green eyes, your crooked nose, sexy lips. Tall and charming. I would have made your hair just as soft and I couldn’t make it smell any better than it...
quanto de 2019 já se passou? nem sei mais. me pergunto onde eu tô, se estou fazendo certo e só lembro dele começando: o dia primeiro todo emaranhado no apartamento de menos de 20 metros quadrados e eu não sabia mais que pé era meu, que pele era minha, que sonho era meu. por qual pulmão passava o ar que eu respirava – isso ninguém conseguiu identificar. 20 metros quadrados de uma coisa só e...
once you wrote for everyone to see that i had fire in me. fire in my hair, my brain, my heart and veins, fire between my legs. (and you felt. you could tell.) by then, i was almost put out already. dead flame, unwanted. last breath taken by the cold. but there’s always a spark within me. now i feel like i can almost birth my own dragons, kill the demons of my past. light out the path...