onlinejournals:

Last summer I survived on wine and cheap meals at midnight. This summer I’m significantly less on-the-edge; far more in my own place. I’m less stressed. I’m less enraged. I’m not as apt to fly off the handle. I’m not continuously drinking handles. And I sort of miss that, the way you miss a black eye when the welt begins to disappear. Sometimes you just need some proof you’ve been hit.

flowerette:

i quite like myself
slouched over a television with a broken remote,
pale skin alive with glowing colours  
at 3:33 in the morning

i think i am at my best
when i am hovered
over the kitchen sink just after dark
running hot water
over my raw fingers

i feel great
when i am sprawled across my bed
crying before i even wake up
sun pushing, unwanted,
through a dirty window

i am very happy with who i am
i say aloud in the car
all alone
while i consider driving into a tree

i am very happy with who i am