( Read more... )

tonite with a half smoked cigarette making circles in ash and tobacco like native american sand paintings, i had intense memories of being small when the babysitter's son slapped me (he was small too, my age, maybe four or five ( Read more... )

i have this horrible feeling that i can't do anything on my own.

i received a hypothetical package yesterday, it was an I.O.U.nothing note that said, "just stop trying to plan yr life."

i'll try.

my heart constricts at the worst times. all the time. when i should be glad to see the hills, i look to my sour, sullen hands and
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i'm gone.

an eight hour road trip to new england with three of my closest friends ( Read more... )

tonite when i came home from smoking cigarettes on my boyfriends porch, my father told me about blue finches. he found one in the grill of his car, a tiny blue bird. he wrapped it up in plastic and brought it home to me ( Read more... )

tonite i screamed so hard in my car that i thought i would never have a voice again. that's ok i guess. i never really use it. not when it counts.

The Sylvia Plath story is told to girls who write
They want us to think that to be a girl poet
Means you have to die
Who is it
That told me
All girls who write must suicide?
must suidide, must suicide
I've another good one for you
We are turning
Cursive letters into knives

Bikini Kill

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