2023 - 2024 / 2018 - 2022

twenty-something blues

we made out in a skatepark near a liquor store and it was so cliché i could hear lo-fi punx songs playing in my head. you kept trying to fondle my breasts over my coat and i almost vomited in your mouth because i could smell the waterfront mixing with the street meat.

i don't remember how long we were swapping spit for, but it was long enough that old couples and white girls walking their Shih Tzus were staring at us with contempt. so you suggested we walk to this crappy bar in the north end of town to meet your shitty friend that you knew i didn't like. he never stopped talking about his hand rolled cigarettes and how "essential" Darby Crash was to his teen years. i was so exhausted of putting up with your shitty friend and your attempt at playing footsie under the table that i excused myself to the washroom and stayed in there doodling on the stall door until i was sure you had left. the multiple "where r u" texts devolved into "i could use some company tonite ;)"

after that i decided it was best to ignore you forever and sit in my room listening to thrash metal (i know how much you hate thrash metal).

the loneliness of a cross-country runner

felt my heartbeat in my ears. my Adidas shorts rhythmically whipping my thighs. tripped over a mound of dirt and scraped my knees on some gravel. tried to hold back my tears as i picked myself up. it didn't hurt, i just had other things on my mind. didn't want to disappoint you.

copper-like taste in my mouth. kept running. closed my eyes on the last stretch and thought of where i'd rather be. smiled as i crossed the finish line. frowned on the bus ride home.

gill-man is back (and in love)

i have all this awkward energy with nowhere to cash it in, no one to share it with. i tried sharing it with you, but i couldn't handle the guilt of dragging down someone with their head slightly above the water. a sad, beautiful sea monster who frightens you because of how human it appears.

oh how i hate it when you take me by the hand and show me great things!
oh how i hate it when you try to make me more human!

i wish to return to the dark safety of my lair and bring you with me, but you need to grow. i'm afraid of the day that you leave me alone in this new world and realize i've held you back. you'll let go of my hand and i'll return to the beach, letting my piscicide-filled body sink into the depths.

happy birthday

thirty-six little pieces strung up on flimsy rope, covered in glitter. solo cup in one hand, hallmark card in the other. shaking so much my drink is spilling on my second-hand dress. i'm going to do this, i'm going to do this right, and it's going to be good, and i'm going to make it to dawn. there's a hand on my shoulder and a pain in my left knee, both telling me i should sit down for a bit, but i don't want to sit. i want to stand and dance around with my vodka and this party hat, and let the confetti hit my face and stick to the tears on my cheek. i want to remember what made me RSVP.

out of ketchup and ambition

i've crafted a deep fake persona that has a pet Chilean rose tarantula and isn't afraid of accepting charitable donations (Cash App in bio). stronger, smarter, effortlessly beautiful, knows 3 languages, has close-knit relationships.

wondering what she's up to right now. maybe learning to play the banjo, or sipping on a martini at an exclusive rooftop bar. i'm going to get groceries and come back to my desolate apartment to stare at the walls. do you want anything?

keeping all my transit tickets and passing them off as "found art"

painting my nails with lead

sloppy drunk at a baby shower

title error

slipping, falling, down down down, landing softly with my head on your lap. my legs sprawl out like a broken egg yolk on hot summer pavement. two gentle strokes of your hands through my hair numbs my brain and melts my senses.

ah... what was i doing again?

lately my memory isn't so good. words slip slip slip from my thoughts and disappear from my fingers gripping my pen. i try to focus on one thing and the image in my brain distorts and twists, 10 minutes feels like 10 hours. every dream i have is me stumbling through a dark hallway, bumping my elbows into various pieces of furniture stacked up like Tetris blocks.

oh... you're still holding me?

your embrace feels warm and fuzzy. i feel the tip of my nose and the apples of my cheeks saturate with your tears. i close my eyes and wait for the feeling to go away.

mental illness Substack

eating Indomie Mi Goreng with my bare hands. didn't cook the egg thoroughly enough, so now the yolk is running down the webs of my fingers and dripping on to my sweat pants. sigh, wipe off my left hand on my shirt, and continue scrolling on various message boards.

my eyes cut through the blue light illuminating my room. an insight into the severe hikikomori lifestyle i've adopted. the summer of 2007 was a lot different for me. expectations of me were a lot higher.

in the past few decades, i've mostly grown accustom to being "other".
what i mean by that is a lack of a sense of belonging or the feeling of "otherness". perhaps it's the implicit biases we hold, or maybe people can just innately sense that i am disgusting, weird, and off-putting.
i pause my train of thought to wipe my nose on my sleeve.

nothing will change, everything will stay the same. i'm not sure the universe would allow me to advance.