Corwin was nice enough to let me borrow his platform to get some things off his chest. He asked me to let everyone know that he is sorry for leaving without warning, but apparently “writing got hard when I started having to be honest.” I’m not 100% sure what that means, but I guess I’ll take his word for it.
I don’t wake up missing you, just what life used to be. I wake up missing the way a bed feels with someone else in it. I wake up missing the warmth of two bodies lazily pressed together in the ...
The irony of revisiting a piece like this isn’t lost on me. A little under a year ago, I thought it was pathetic to allow thoughts of you to inspire so many words, and yet here I am, writing about ...
I was going to add context, but felt like that would be defeating the point. If I have to spell it out then what was the point of writing the poem in the first place. At the end of the ...
If you get nothing else from me or this blog, I truly hope that this short message sticks with you.
Corwin was nice enough to let me borrow his platform to get some things off his chest. He asked me to let everyone know that he is sorry for leaving without warning, but apparently “writing got hard when I started having to be honest.” I’m not 100% sure what that means, but I guess I’ll take his word for it.
I don’t wake up missing you, just what life used to be. I wake up missing the way a bed feels with someone else in it. I wake up missing the warmth of two bodies lazily pressed together in the early hours of the morning. I wake up missing the sound of someone breathing softly ...
The irony of revisiting a piece like this isn’t lost on me. A little under a year ago, I thought it was pathetic to allow thoughts of you to inspire so many words, and yet here I am, writing about you again. You’ll be happy to know that I’ve changed my mind. Not about how ...
I was going to add context, but felt like that would be defeating the point. If I have to spell it out then what was the point of writing the poem in the first place. At the end of the day you’ll read, and either have a reaction or not. Artificially facilitating that is unfair ...
I realized as I finished writing this that it had been a while since I had posted anything. I don’t have a good explanation for the break. I suppose I haven’t felt much lately, and thus nothing I’ve written in the past month has felt important enough to show to anyone. I haven’t found much ...
Today, instead of committing suicide, I sat on the island in the middle of my kitchen while crying and eating butterscotch. I didn’t have any particular reason to be so depressed. Nothing serious had happened, and no mounting dread loomed over me, but nevertheless, all I could think about upon waking up this morning was ...
It’s everyone’s favorite time again. I’ve hit that critical mood where I do away with the piss poor poetry, thoughtless think pieces, and agonizing anecdotes, all to see how many self-deprecating remarks I can throw out before people start to worry. I’ll be honest, for about two weeks now I’ve found myself firmly nestled within ...
I hate days celebrating the life and work of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. What should be a day of celebrating black excellence, and reflecting on the steps this country still needs to take to address its own racism, instead devolves into scores of people tweeting the same three quotes that only serve to misrepresent ...
