words don't come that easy.

x

24.11.21
14:47 (at the airport)

For the love of god do not call a priest! Instead, outline my bed in lit tapered candles; feed me Anais; invoke Henry. Eulogize me, but make it sexy. Capture how I loved like rising plumes of smoke caressing the sky fiercely, and - chaotically. Give me dozens of blank notebooks, a box of ball point pens; prop my typewriter on the dinner tray - let me write out the pangs of my hunger until my last breath. Give me patience. Turn up the Cat Stevens record; the one that played as my father and I swayed; steadying me barefoot and pigeon toed on his shiny patent leather dress shoes; squeeze my hand through "Wild World". Peel the carpet from the floor, and replace it with buckets of sun baked sand from the beach where Shawn got me high; our bodies stretching like driftwood as an offering to the foamy tides. Fit as many vases (some squat, some tall) with dew beaded lilacs cut and liberated from the neighbor's yard. If he asks what you are doing, simply tell him I am dying. Beckon rain and thunder to my open window - let it crack like the snap of a whip in my bedroom. Catch fireflies in an old jam jar, but let me set them free like winking stars. They say you can't take anything with you, but lord, will I try to.

/// i know i haven't updated in a while. had the busiest of days. but things are going back to normal now. happy thanksgiving to everyone who celebrate, in advance.