Not writing what I intended to,
only what I never knew I needed to know.

Learning lessons while evesdropping on my own thoughts.

Sometimes in the silence I hear nothing but the voices of others.
And yet, when surrounded by so many, the music and conversations of hundreds,
my own voice calls out clearly to my fingers.

Sometimes these fingers know more than can be told,
knowing me best when I’m distracted.

Not wanting to rhyme,
I prefer to make sense of what you didn’t think possible,
to find the beauty in what others miss.

Who says florals can’t go with stripes?

This is (not) Romance.

(collections of a life)

ink I wish I’d dripped.
chores I should have done.
crowns stolen and forgotten.

unopened canvases scatter the floor.
an army uniform, a tutu,
a box of scrap paper I’ve been saving for something I may never know.

books I’ve read and meant to.
old cords, new cords.

nail polish and my pink disney princess hair brush.
dollar store feathers and my grandpas captains hat.
scissors stolen and paint re-gifted.
damp towels and borrowed boots.

shiny bits of accumulating things sticking out of everywhere.
a sketch book for every self since 16.

old christmas decorations, broken lampshades, plastic flowers and 5 mirrors.
shoe polish, hangers dripping with clothes in every color and 4 pairs of deer.
and one deer alone, but he is the most beautiful.

empty tylenol bottles, to go coffee mugs and prints made by ex boyfriends.
portraits painted of my father and portraits…

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Image Search: Intimacy

As part research, part -this is what I do when I’m lacking physical intimacy in my life, look at, watch and read about other people being intimate- I spent about 3 hours on we ❤ it looking through photographs tagged ‘intimacy’. Here are my favorites: