the things that i worried about today were
1 why doesn't anyone else notice the horns spiraling from my head, minotaur black, rough like a bitten nail
2 the strange colour of the grey sky, it was the colour of my father's beard
3 my hands

today i woke up and drank coffee. worked for 12 hours. wrote words and crossed them out. crossed them out.

when i drive home from work i drive down the same street and i see the same cars every day.

i cut my hair. and people say i look different. i cut my hair, i tell them. and they say no, that's not it, you look different, something is different. it's not, they say, my hair.

i painted my nails brown. i started reading a beautiful and sad book. i have noticed my scars itching, from the inside out. where my little sister bit me when we were small. where i cut my hand washing a glass.

sing me something sweet and sad, let your head rest on my shoulder, tell me all your secrets, i'll keep them safe in a locket wrapped in lace.
i love you and me.

i felt trapped for hours today, weighed down by strands of hair falling across my shoulders, by freckles brown bursting through pale winter scales, by the books i write spells in, every box i should be packing. sitting in a comfortable and filthy cage of my own creation. i have hoarded for long winters, packed tightly every corner in my den, filled ( Read more... )

i spent so many minutes this winter willing it to spring and now it's spring and now i'm happy.

in my dreams last night the house was empty. all of our things were in boxes. the carpets were different, too, they were the colour of wood floors ( Read more... )

spin spin spin.