dandelion resting on my lips like a cigarette

21 | 🍻🎪 | poet | shakespeare fangirl

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listening to Red Hot Chili Peppers

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🍬

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side wound realness

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listening to Britney 💞

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do you think we’ll be in love forever?

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listening to Father John Misty

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me + loml

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pink is IN for 2025 also tools and baseball bats

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Reese Witherspoon for The Face Dec 1998

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listening to Gwen Stefani

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why was this not in my size 😭💔

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listening to sports car

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an ache like a swallow that leaves a lump in your throat

an ache like a rug with the corners folded under

i'll know it like geography

each pit and ragged valley

i've studied the maps of each discomfort

each ache like a dull itch beneath my flesh and behind my eyes

an ache like a still life worshiped by flies

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Grief bubbles over like an unwatched pot of water. I look away, walk away for a moment, and everything I'd guarded under trained eye leaks over the edge in waves that swallow me in froth. See, I'd started developing an ache in my neck from craning over that steaming pot, stirring the broth gently. Because grief doesn't simply stop, it slowly rotates like a sprig of rosemary on the surface. My hands were chaffed from holding the wooden spoon; my eyes were filled with stinging aromas. I stepped back saying "I deserve this." I turned away whispering, "I can rest from this."

A watched pot never boils, but a left pot drowned me. I feel the scalding liquid at the back of my throat threatening to push down my last wall. I have no choice but to drink it in, past what feels like my fill. Have I ever known what enough is? I'm starving myself of my own self—I never take in as much as I am. I take the steamed joys and bottled gratitudes, but I shove aside this bowl. Swallowing my grief takes a chasm. Stomaching it takes a gully. I have to carve a path for it, eroding my walls just enough to let the grief trickle in. But there's the critical moment, where it threatens to overflow. Like a bubbled over pot, it teases the edge, and I've never drank this much in all my life. There is no final gulp for a long time, but the aftertaste is of rosemary.