pinesolfumes

[pinesolfumes]

ash two X

[pinesolfumes]

soba soop

[pinesolfumes]

he says he loves me

and this much i believe.

his hand marks the center of my chest. spread fingers like he might emerge with treasure, resurrect my soul, as the claw machines metal teeth close in their ascent.

for just two more quarters we can try again.

he says he loves me

and it’s early too

but time has passed at an unknown speed and maybe i’ve had the practice, mirror me, muscle memory

so the words flow well

fit to the corners of my mouth as though they have always been there, always been true.

we (society) have adopted a practice of kissing, eyes closed.

every so often our eyes will meet. his like the arctic. bright, lonely.

“like a polar bear” i say,

but he doesn’t want to be precious.

he says he loves me, spread across a bed he’s too tall for, the step in his laugh an honest octave,

and this much i believe.

[pinesolfumes]

some art ive been making.

[pinesolfumes]

the ugly truth is, now that i’ve deleted instagram i have no platform to ask the public for little treats.

[pinesolfumes]

todays words

[pinesolfumes]

yea you can use my sewing machine but its byob (bring your own bobbin)

[pinesolfumes]

i have to close my eyes when the train passes. i am tired all the time and always teetering on the brink of nausea, reasons unbeknownst to me. and so i’ll drink too much coffee, and have another pastry.

i am sick from the cigarettes, and maybe this sadness, that i cannot shake off. i hold this sadness in my hand and it sickens me.

practicing my smile in the mirror so i dont forget. contempt for the unborn child. i dont know when i started waking up like this. when exhaustion met complacency.

i dont know why this feeling eats me alive. kills the ones i love. i dont know how to be a person, that is not this person,

a person to be loved

a person to be held

and i am so sick. that i might puke. always on the brink of nausea. as i fold this up.

into a pretty picture.

choose your fate.

they all end the same.

[pinesolfumes]

my mother is a person too.

i don’t look up at the stars that often, now that i’ve moved. tip toe through places ive danced. i dont know how we birth sunshine from sorrow, why we break those we say we love.

when my seas wash over the room, soothe your achey chest, i do not know how to hold you. hold space for love i havent had, broken fingers in my palm. i’ll wash your hair and make your breakfast because i dont know how, to speak words i haven’t heard.

and i ask myself how i became the savior. swimming in shoes i never wanted to wear. a special feeling. so far from my body at my mothers touch. my mother is a person too. a stranger to me.

[pinesolfumes]

empty spaces i cannot fill with my love.

i am not tall enough, though i stretch. touch my toes.

i dont know how to tell my friends i miss them.

i think i am sweet, and i wish my mother hugged me more.

i wonder who made this shell. tuck myself away. creature of habit.

i’m not sure if i know how to be okay. sadness seeps through the cracks i thought i had patched.

i wonder if the people i love have loved me back. at one point or another.

i dont see the water enough. drown out my sorrows. three and a half steps. a little less noise.