Canned Fish with Mayonnaise

Traditions are funny.

I know that I’m not supposed to eat meat on Fridays, but only because that’s what I’ve always done.

My boyfriend isn’t religious and sometimes he can’t hide his scoff when I say I can’t eat pepperoni,

because it’s Friday.

Can’t we just get a plain pizza instead?

I don’t even know why I do it anymore. I stopped liking church a long time ago and the pain and the loss and the unbearable suffering and stupidity and ignorance in this world has reduced me to a half-believer.

I heard somewhere that’s worse than a non-believer.

I guess it’s better to fully believe that you don’t believe, than to half believe that you do believe.

Apparently fish doesn’t count as meat though, so

i’ll still eat my tuna salad on Fridays.


Vegan Options Available

Sometimes you change things up and you surprise even yourself.

My friend and I decided that we weren’t going to take people’s shit anymore.

A cry into the void:

No more.

No more letting things go,

or resentment,

or repression,

or robbing yourself because that’s just how you’ve always acted.

Why do you keep sending me jokes like that when I don’t think they’re funny?

I shouldn’t have to say this more than once: no!

Sometimes you order a cocktail, or wear a new pair of shoes, or order Do-si-dos instead of Samoas and you think to yourself,


Here’s your money.

I’m a damn new person.

Styrofoam Cups and Sample Spoons

I think better when I hear your voice.

Things that had been plaguing me
somehow just seem to make sense
coming off of your lips.

The way you can make the whole world make sense.

So carefree. So fearless.

I remember a day when we laughed. The hot leather of your car seats burned my legs but I forgot the pain when I looked at your lips.

I couldn't foresee what would come of those.

I was feeding you passionfruit Italian ices while you had your hands on the wheel and the gear shift. The air was so hot. The urgency notable.

I should have kissed you when I fed you those ices.

In between a laugh or a comment or something.

I had lemon ices that day like always.

I had never tasted passionfruit until I met you.

Candy Floss 

You are fleeting in a way that all good things are

you leave me with the best taste in my mouth right before disappearing 

Cotton candy in a pink martini, gone the second liquid touches it 

Thin strings wrapped around themselves playing out a thunderclap of laugher and a symphony of my name leaving your lips

Dissolving through the static of a phone call

I’d drink you up in a second if you weren’t so far away

If life had dealt me another hand

An ace of diamonds instead of a joker with teeth exposed 

Smiling through what could be in another life,
Or in a dream. 

But one always has to turn the light back on and wake up. 


Beep beep beep 

Birthday Cake

Tiered to the sky with sickening sweetness and sprinkles

the obnoxious colors of your Lisa Frank folder you had in the second grade

buy me candy turns into

buy me shots

with age

comes the realization that nobody wants to celebrate your birthday

celebrations of the self are inherently narcissistic

so people take advantage

of your life

to celebrate their own



$10 Chianti

I cried thinking about you last night

i don’t know if it was because I missed you, or your body, or the feeling of your hand on my back

my mind usually doesn’t falter this much when it’s only been 10 days.

i wanted the feeling of my cheek on your chest and of your hot lips. Clumsily kissing me just like the first time.

i cried thinking last night

I don’t know if it was because I drank most of that bottle by myself Saturday night while I was with my friends and you were with yours

I told you I was having fun, and I really think I was.

i called you two times before you answered, I guess third time really is a charm

I cried last night

and I called you and told you I loved you, but I’m not sure why I was crying.




Honey Oat Sandwich Bread

Getting your hands dirty always happens when you don’t plan on it

flour wedged under too long fingernails

embossed with the imprints of your unwashed sheets because you just couldn’t wait to get to sleep

you laid there though, not moving but completely awake

unsure of what came first your doubt or that phone call

kneading dough is oddly therapeutic when you’re thinking about ending things

you know it’ll just rise back up after you punch it down

but there’s only so much yeast

at one point or another it’ll get punched and stay down

then you’re left with tough bread

something that used to feed thousands but somehow fell short in your loaf pan

you punch it again, this time achieving nothing but blowing off steam

you don’t need the carbs


via Daily Prompt: Aesthetic