Nothing like the beach
I’m leaving for Greece tomorrow morning for a whole month. That’s scary. If you want to follow my travels and see picture, here’s my blog for it: http://itsgonnabegreek.blogspot.com/ Yay Santorini!
I love red lipstick. It makes me feel fancy
Tequila tastes like cacti.
And I just started crying, this is great. So much fun.
I have a really strong urge to take a picture of my butt and post it. I’m not sure if I should or not
My mother calls me over,
laptop open on her thighs.
She points to the screen where
two girls stand,
brown hair framing their little faces.
A canyon drops
behind Mary-Jane shoes
and scraggly old bushes wave and pulse
in the dry desert air like the ends of their skirts.
Their faces scrunch in the sun,
teeth a pale contrast to the red of the sand.
This is me, my mother points
to the smaller girl whose face is twisted up
so you can’t see her eyes
behind her smile.
The older girl clasps her hands together,
her smile as bright as her sisters
through the eye of the lens.
I hardly recognize that little girl as my mother.
These days the corners of her mouth more often
pull down then up, and children
have pulled and stretched her body like taffy so that
the figure of her teenage years is found
only in pictures.
Work tries her patience and people her temperament until
she comes home at the end of the day,
exhausted, and fills my waiting ears with
the trials she’s gone through and how much she wishes
she could just quit.
And I wonder,
as the girls faces blur out of focus,
a new picture sliding into place,
where that joy she had has gone now.
If it is hidden
behind worry lines
Or possibly lost between children and jobs,
money, bills, houses and living the
American Dream, trapped
in a life we wish was different. Or,
if adulthood exposes
the same graveness
in us all.
If we just become
a negative of ourselves
from when we were young.
I’m going to surround myself with peppermint- peppermint tea, peppermint essential oil, peppermint melting wax- in hope that it will make me focus on my portfolio and finishing my poem.
Sorry for all the porn/sexiness everyone. But not really.
All I want it cuddles. Jesus christ someone come cuddle with me please
I think my boobs have grown
I feel like I’m going to have a panic attack right about now
This is what happens when my friends and I get drunk and they decide I need balloons for my birthday but the only thing we have is condoms.