January 14th, 2024

Write what you know write what you know write what you know but all I know is what it is to ask to be loved. All I know is the constant pain of yearning and how it catches in your throat and fills in your fingertips and overflows after the first sip of alcohol. All I know is to have a beer and to fall into the closest arms asking for love or the feeling of

Being wanted and the way it mimics safety 

And all I know is the cold the absence brings exaggerating the space that exists between you and me and all I know is replaying my role in the mirror and wondering how she became that way and that there are seven other realities I could be choosing and what’s funny is my genetic disposition to want to bury myself within the muck instead of swim in the sunshine that was laid upon the table last night in equal serving and the beauty of a childhood friend and the warmth of that love being placed second chair when it has sat quietly beside me this whole life and how interesting that I choose the reminder of worth that ties my meaning to my body, my life to my physicality, instead of remembering the meat lies in between the bread and that this life is so filled with love I fail every time understand its capacity and I lay with with my dog tucked into my chest between the sunlight that sneaks through the blinds and have decided to open the windows and make myself breakfast.