Probably not as funny as I think I am
Insta @chloe_j_writes
The shadows under my eyes grow claws, the better to drag slowly down my chalkboard face. The shriek is dog-whistle silent and self-wrought.
By Chloë J.9 months ago in Poets
Isn’t it beautiful? My sadness, I mean; why else would I wear it every day? / The palest shade of gray, and it never goes away.
By Chloë J.10 months ago in Poets
Dear everyone who has taken the time to read the various pieces of my heart, I feel like I owe an apology to you all. Life has been busy and hard; in some really great ways and some really challenging ways. As a result, I have been incredibly inactive on this platform.
By Chloë J.11 months ago in Writers
Vocal conference. I would meet those whose words have held and bolstered me.
By Chloë J.11 months ago in Poets
On the first day of Bumble, my new match gave to me: A lot of anxiety! On the second day of Bumble, my new match gave to me:
I am July’s child, against my will. I wear its sweet heaviness, a perfume that accompanies me throughout the seasons that I love better,
By Chloë J.12 months ago in Poets
the painter looks at, seeking mirror fragments, but the artist looks up.
By Chloë J.about a year ago in Poets
I am younger than I think and older than I want to be, sadder than I was, and wiser than I used to be. I’m acquainted now with pain,
…the firstborn daughter of a firstborn daughter. I never stood a chance.
I own a marvelous sort of sadness. I burrow inside, wrap it around me, a living cloak. // I wear a fashionable sort of fear,
for a single fleeting moment, my eyes found you in the dusk; a stolen star, lingering, lazy and seductive to decorate my twilight.
I. Old as life, the self-indulgent desire To weave words, apt echoes of a heart’s beat, With timely, well-turned phrases, fan the fire
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