#julia falkner

[minhamemoriasuja]

Bruno Azevedo by Julia Falkner

[mademoiselleclipon]

Julia Falkner / Hamda Jama

[kiki-de-la-petite-flaque]

If there’s a way to romanticize decomposing, please let me know

Yesterday a star-drunk woman

asked me if I wanted to be a writer,

liplined wide-eyed words

on the edge of the tablecloth shaken

into my lap with new breadcrumbs

and the memory of your hips.

I answered “theoretically”

and she looked at me like you look

at the Zoloft someone left open

in their medicine cabinet.

Which is incidentally how I want

to be looked at anyways.

If she had turned over the napkins,

she would have found confessions

stained with the Pinot noir

and skidmarked with my mascara-

Table 1: I WANTED TO BE

YOUR ACID TRIP TO CAPE COD

Table 4: I WANTED TO BE

YOUR UGLY SWEETHEART

Table 7: YOUR HANGOVER,

RUINED WEDDING DRESS,

BROKEN BALLERINA FEET.

The napkin under my plate reads

I’M NOT DEPRESSED BUT I WANT

and that’s a line I could never

finish writing.

They haven’t made a toast yet,

but the hollow between my shoulders

is still cold from where your forehead

left it like the hope leaving Pandora’s box.

After we broke up I started to hate pretty things

starting with you and ending with what I want to be.

I don’t know why I did it, but I burned a CD

of every voicemail you’ve ever left me

that made me feel like high-functioning hellfire

and inserted it into my skull

for my firing neurons-

Track 1: YOU’RE STARTING TO GET DEFECTIVE

AND NOT IN A SEXY WAY

Track 4: THE WORST PART, THOUGH

IS THAT I DON’T EVEN HATE YOU

Track 7: WHERE ARE YOUR

FUCKING HOSPITAL BRACELETS

I’m not depressed but I want

tooth and nail to be out of my skin.

I’m not depressed but I want

to hold dinner parties for the devil.

I’m not depressed but I want

someone to touch me somewhere

that stops the audio files of your suffering

and I’m starting to give up on my heart.

She didn’t ask why,

so I carved it between the tines

of the salad fork: I am afraid

that in 30 years I’ll be plastered

to the destroyed carpet of my apartment

in last week’s underwear, self medicating

with champagne flutes and the Zoloft

from someone else’s medicine cabinet,

still writing about you-

and I’m even more afraid

that I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Julia Falkner

[lifeofasurrealist]

Beautiful portraits of boys trying on make-up & dresses for the first time

Blah Blah Genitals is the photo series proving masculinity is evolving beyond stereotypical notions of what it means to ‘be a man’

[hufmagazine]

Kowboy Kanye, photography by Julia Falkner for 1883 Magazinehttp://hufmagazine.com/kowboy-kanye-photography-julia-falkner-1883-magazine/