I Need Feminism Because Peeping Tom

The peeping tom has taken up running or biking whatever it is that requires two-piece spandex body suits and frequenting my coffee shop since I moved. — when I feel his eyes on me staring as I sit at my table, or staring as I enter from a walk; I would rather take an orangepeeler…

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Somber Sobriety

My brain wakes up and cries for the death of its living baby. so used to hurling ourselves [booze] down the hatch, the still afterwake unscathed is surreal; like crying when happy, our system malfunctions.

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They Say

there’s always an eye opening moment before sobriety. The first time for me was the morning after waking up having dranken from the tank my miramo moss ball was floating in. — i remember drunk as fuck lifting the cold orb into my palms and pouring its contents down my throat until it was nearly…

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Read the Warning Signs

i spilled thoughts onto the floor last night but did not bother to clean the mess til morning. — scooping up and curating Old crumbs they professed, “he is everything you think he is. watch your step. do not miss picking up one of those sharp pieces. one day you’ll forget to step around it…

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August Post Mortem

was the name. the year, 2012. “if they fuck that stab hole I’m gonna lose it,” he breathed out redundantly with strained pants. — 2017 – another mutual friend run-in. she sits down at the four-seater table with tonights bunch. naturally, he sits in the chair next to her. she sips her whiskey, balancing herself. “have…

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Freight’d It’s Over

I saw you and felt nothing. — if I was a tunnel, you used to be the train. whenever I’d hear you coming I’d brace myself for impending arrival. you’d roll through me; unstoppable force. i’d feel every inch of me shake and shudder as you ran through my bones. — but you left long…

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juvenile delinquent

When I was about seven or eight, my parents and I visited my sister at BSU. we stayed at a hotel near campus across the street from a kids museum; aricheturally glorified chuckie cheese, complete with oversized step-play piano floor. — as we checked-out the gift shop, my little heart, fell in-love with a chinese…

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muting The echo

the only thing we ever got right was touching each other. — do not reverberate off skull walls [playfully poking me, grabbing my hips, pulling me into you] — do not speak in our voice, use our mannerisms. i see you still wear them; stretching them across your face for  someone else. — your voice,…

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rainy deck time

having been raised in a newly emerging subdivision the unfinished wood of this deck, slapped with fresh coats of rain water, sends me spiraling back decades. — sitting on a smoker’s deck, breathing in no smoke, the brain becomes unaccustomed to the absence of tarred expectations. like, if you are out here breathing in fresh…

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