it’s weird being a person that so loves loving someone who just doesn’t have it in me to want to love anyone anymore (at least, for the foreseeable future) because while I’m so happy that I have the time and energy to expend that love onto my friends and family and what I do with my time, learning how to act only for myself and to feel only what I want to feel is so weird and some nights, because I’m not sad anymore, it’s just kind of… blank. I’m just really, really okay. and that’s so strange to me as someone who is so so used to feeling everything so, so deeply.

Posted: 4 minutes ago

catch me a breeze through your open door, the crack she left before I’d even know your name. what started a sliver would blow wide open in the staying, all of my silence. but, no, this is not about you—there is no music here, just the sound of traffic like the gust hitting the side of the old country home in which I was raised.

tonight, just before leaving, I set up my client’s coffee for the morning—Folger’s. every time I smell the grounds, I remember the first client I ever had as a caregiver: a pretty little house out near the tiny town that I spent 11 years trying to escape, overnights, sitting on the countertop with stocking feet and a cup of watered-down coffee between sleepy hands. my coworker’s name was Jessica and I remember thinking at first that she was the most annoyingly bright girl I had ever met, she had these big blue—almost green, almost opalescent eyes that stared straight inside of you when she spoke to you and she liked to color in coloring books to keep herself awake. three months of overnights together and she became a confessional for my heartbreak, the only person I could tell the entire truth to. and then one night, out of the blue, he asked me to come over in the morning when I was off. that was it.

I’ve made enough mistakes to know what they look like a hundred miles in advance, you were the final one before I pulled this whole god damned car over and left it there, in a ditch on the side of the road.

this feels a lot like walking home.


I’m nostalgic for moments now, no longer people. I’m nostalgic for the drugs you were on at dawn when you said to me out on my front porch, “can I be honest with you? ever since I’ve met you, my whole life has turned around. you are the most amazing person I’ve ever met.” I’m nostalgic for the rooftop bar on the first warm night of the emerging spring and our one shared drink because it was so expensive and we were so broke. I’m nostalgic for the apartment we had that was our own and the jazz festival outside our open living room windows in the warm, summer evenings when he’d grab me and spin me around to dance in our empty living room. but people—people are risky and I am vulnerable and tender, a baby lamb perpetually to the slaughter for a god I can’t even fathom and my love is disposable.

but I don’t miss the ache of waiting, of disappointment. somehow, in the transition, my life has expanded beyond my own reach and there is so much left to achieve.

and for the first time in my adult life, I prefer sleeping alone. x

Posted: 15 minutes ago
On Heroin & Doc Martens


One Minute you are a small, timid fourteen year old sitting on the floor of a hallway lined with yellow lockers, holding hands with your best friends and carelessly biting into school cafeteria donuts and chocolate chip cookies.

The next minute you are still a small girl, but more bold. You are…

oh my god, Kitten! this made me cry. you are amazing, this is amazing. I’m so, so, so proud of you. x

Posted: 9 hours ago
Posted: 21 hours ago
not sorry ‘bout it

not sorry ‘bout it

Do you have a favorite piece of clothing? asked by Anonymous

hmmm I don’t think so? I just love anything that’s black and/or gold! ;))

oh wait! I have these little black faux leather track shorts that I bought at the beginning of the summer that I’ve worn probably the most out of anything in my wardrobe! x