moons
^{18:01, december 2, 2020}
early moons leave gossamer ribbons here,
trails of light, meant only for you and i,
lovers, that have glow-in-the-dark secrets,
that only appear in shared midnight breaths.
soft sighs float above venerated heads,
rising above the dewy treetops of night,
nights so dark they block out our others,
until only their sentiments remain.
-analog

blue hour
^{00:53, june 24,2021}
1am, pumping fake city noise into speakers to help me sleep.
with comfort and nostalgia for a place i hardly know, longing for a community i am nowhere near.
other people’s idle chatter soothes my thoughts, soothes the itch under my skin and the ache in my joints and the ringing in my ears.
creatures are my creature comfort, camaraderie in silence, in volume, and in distance.
as i ebb and flow on the waves of a train in a country 30 hours away, pieces of me come together under dim moonlight and dimmer streetlights.
-analog

habits
^{03:52, july 26th, 2021}
my processes in the moments before taking a shower are a ritual, a practiced moment all to myself.
in the time between classes, i tidy myself in preparation for the rest of the day.
it is so human to follow these rituals, a few little displays of normalcy and stability that i am otherwise without.
my regime of familiarity is what makes life comfortable, possible, and easier.
these little breaths help me forget the ache and struggle, and for a few moments, i can float along in muscle memory.
the world is ever changing, and my life is changing with it, and perhaps even my rituals will change. however, for now, i take these moments before a shower to myself, and myself alone.
-analog

halotherapy
^{16:25, august 8th, 2021}
the water brings back shells and stones
but fire does not plan its actions
and as your debts so quick grow old
turn questioning eyes upon your ashes
because therein lies the answers old

an angel with saltwater wings
surrounded by a halo of salt
your eyes forced shut, your wounds burnt clean
to force you back to whence you crawled
because therein lies the answers old

in sandy beaches letters scrawled
speak eons more than voices can
but silence crushes ribs and lungs
and empty homes call not to love
because therein lies a spark gone cold
-analog

division
^{09:57, december 7th, 2021}
i am obsessed with the idea of layers. i want to be separated into layers like paper and skin. every layer is from a different person, a different year. i am my ex-boyfriend's laugh, my best friend's voice, my mother's walk and my father's temper. i am the sum of everyone else's parts.
-analog

growing pains
^{19:19, february 16th, 2022}
growing away from you is just like. i love you. you're 40 hours away. do you miss me? do your pillowcases still smell the same even in a different country? i still use the soap you said you liked. do you still like the perfume i bought you? do you still hurt a bit every time you buy convenience store soda because you wish you could share it with me?
-analog

untitled
^{14:58, november 18th, 2022}
is it normal?
this ache in my chest i get every time you speak?
the dizzy feeling when you compliment me?

the rush of blood to my head when you spin these words,
these words, these words that drive me crazy?

is it normal for me to be jealous of a man ive never met,
because i know he holds more of your heart than i could ever dream?

and it’s ok for you to say no,
to deny me the right to speak because by now i’ve done enough talking for the both of us;

so tell me to leave and start walking to take my focus off,
off of the rush of the blood, the shame, the anger, the resentment i’ve already built;

it's a self fulfilling prophecy of my own design,
it’s ok for you to be mad, because i am too.
-analog

highschool
^{14:55, november 18th, 2022}
you kiss me in the alcove underneath the library, and you taste like vanilla and cinnamon. your hand is a bit bigger than mine, but we fit perfectly together. i’m wearing your sweater, brown and orange knit with the ugliest buttons i’ve ever seen, but it’s yours so i don’t think i’ve ever seen a prettier sweater in my life. you balance a pinecone in my lap, and i have to balance my heart back in my chest for fear of everything i feel about you leaking out of my mouth, my nose, my ears, spilling out of the little castle walls i’ve built, scrounged together out of a sense of decency and chivalry. the moment lasts forever and not long enough, and in that moment of aftertastes and shared giggles, i think we could last forever.
-analog

bears and oranges
^{11:52, sep 13,2024}
you split the orange, my nails are too brittle;
you give me half, and then some;
the afternoon fades slowly, with sticky fingers and the cut on my lip stinging;
i could do this twice, thrice, as long as you'll stay;
i promise to never cut my nails short
-analog