May 2011
17 posts
Yeah, You
The Other Woman
Little girl, just keep on waiting For that man to give you a life You keep on hoping, so this prince can save you Keep on dreaming his scandalous lie For your love is he the hero, mmm Does he know that you begging him please Where angels dare, the devils fill that need In your despair does he get up to leave At the start of his goodbye Do you ever realize That you...
I may still not know what I want to be when I grow up, but I do know that someday I want to live in a house filled with my books and travel souvenirs. And the walls that aren’t covered in bookshelves will be covered with photos of my family and friends. When I leave the house I will be going to a job I love, and I’ll return to a person I love. So, that’s the dream I’m working on
The Austen Syndrome
At a very young age, she had learned to love from Austen. And according to her immature understanding at the time, in Austen’s world there was no such thing as a fling. Every romance was intended to lead to marriage, every flirtation just a means to find that partner to cling to forever. So for Jane, when each romance ended with hope still attached, it felt as brutal as divorce. Intense...
“Silver Lined Heart” by Taylor Mali I’m for reckless abandon and spontaneous celebrations of nothing at all, like the twin flutes I kept in the trunk of my car in a box labeled Emergency Champagne Glasses! Raise an unexpected glass to long, cold winters and sweet hot summers and the beautiful confusion of the times in between. To the unexpected drenching rain that leaves you soaking...
Dinner Party
Someday I will host dinner parties & you will always be invited. We will eat lovely food, and perhaps the first time I will try & have a hand at cooking a real meal. If it doesn’t work so well, the next time I’ll just have something ordered-in. But nevertheless, food will be plenty & drinks will be flowing. (Our drinks will be something “fancy” - you know, what...
“I deserve that, don’t I, some sort of blazing love that I can live with”
– Sylvia Plath
