creator. dreamer. writer. believer.
Ten Years After Marriage
After 10 years the living room will look like a forest. There are a lot of time to give gifts in a decade, many of them will be plants. You will love them and loathe them and not bare to think what you’d do without them. You will tend to them, and only very occasionally, let one die. Usually because it was struck down by boys playing football in the house. But, also, because sometimes you just don’t know what else to do with yourself or them.
If I ran into him in Aisle Three, I’d be pushing a shopping cart foaming over the brim with groceries. He’d be carrying a basket, soup cans and a six pack I imagine, or maybe liquor, he isn’t 17 anymore, after all.
I like to think that it happens this way: that the tree fights mercilessly with the wind, holding on until it chooses the time
I Have Always Been a Flight Risk:
I have always been a flight risk. There is a new tree in my living room, potted beautifully and leaning just enough to say don’t touch me yet, I am not sure I should be here. It looks like a person at a party with strangers. Trying to stand tall but also arching away from everything uncomfortable.
Where Do Marriages Go to Die
Where do marriages go to die? It's not the death that does us part Or any of the sickness or all the health It's just that one day the lump in the middle of the mattress