i think it’s disrespectful to everything when men write at all
i need to be able to see the sky
when there is a think blanket of clouds and, looking up, you only can see this low-hanging monochrome greyness of cloud
its like theres a ceiling outside as well
everything feels really claustrophobic and i find it harder to breathe
whenever i would panic because of a crowd my mother would tell me to just look up
and consider how much space there was without people in it
just above our heads
from ~8ft from the ground
stretching up infinitely(?)
and i would be able to breathe easier and could calm down
but on days like today it feels like everyone has been crammed into a very small area
and i feel very aware of all of the spaces i cant fit into;
all of the spaces from which breath cant be drawn;
filled with concrete and organs and the gasses that arent oxygen
i guess i’ll keep refreshing the “bbc weather” website
and breathe intentionally
Someday I will stop being young and wanting stupid tattoos.
There are 7 people in my house. We each have different genders. I cut my hair over the bathroom sink and everything I own has a hole in it. There is a banner in our living room that says “Love Cats Hate Capitalism.” We sit around the kitchen table and argue about the compost pile and Karl Marx and the necessity of violence when The Rev comes. Whatever the fuck The Rev means.
Every time my best friend laughs I want to grab them by the shoulders and shout “Grow old with me and never kiss me on the mouth!” I want us to spend the next 80 years together eating Doritos and riding bikes. I want to be Oscar the Grouch. I want him and his girlfriend to be Bert and Ernie. I want us to live on Sesame Street and I will park my trash can on their front stoop and we will be friends every day. If I ever seem grouchy it’s just because I am a little afraid of all that fun.
There is a river running through this city I know as well as my own name. It’s the first place I’ve ever called home. I don’t think its poetry to say I’m in love with the water. I don’t think it’s poetry to say I’m in love with the train tracks. I don’t think it’s blasphemy to say I see God in the skyline.
There is always cold beer asking to be slurped on back porches.
There are always crushed packs of Marlboro’s in my back pockets. I have been wearing the same patched-up shorts for 10 days.
Someday I will stop being young and wanting stupid tattoos.Clementine von Radics (via ohnoheather)