word-girl
brooklyn, ny
When I was eleven I’d wake myself up every morning at 5:45, slide into the kitchen, make myself a cup of french vanilla tea with a whole lot of honey, sit in the dark of my parents old living room, wait for the sun
By Alex McKelley6 years ago in Poets
I like to spend nights like these thinking of myself as a bird I am a girl who is a bird who is a girl who is & so on & so on & such
1. Walk into the drug store in an attempt to thaw out the nakedness of your thigh cold meat covering cold bones covering nothing
The boy is not asking for my name & I am just asking for a ride home The man, I mean Boy / man / boy / I get them mixed up mostly / lose track / lose sight /
My head is melting into the cupboard & Allie is finding a mouse Comes barging into the bedroom Your room Says the cat & the mouse are staring at each other
I have been trying & trying & trying & trying & I think, maybe The difficult lies inside of the try The push / pull / of it