<p>(a coming-of-age playlist.) words taken from blackout poetry made from old (angsty) phone notes & journal entries. 22.08.17 / sit next to me by foster the people. out the window, the suburban lights are bright and cold, a picture in time. you can breathe in broken light. shadows of leaves pass over the walls, on […]</p>
(a coming-of-age playlist.)
words taken from blackout poetry made from old (angsty) phone notes & journal entries.
22.08.17 / sit next to me by foster the people.
out the window,
the suburban lights are
bright and cold,
a picture in time.
you can breathe in broken light.
shadows of leaves pass
over the walls, on the
walls of this dimension.
listen as i wipe the condensation,
the breath.
17.09.17 / ashley ave by sondorblue.
a sharp feeling surrounds me,
holds me in its eyes.
i’m the suburban dead.
drinking wine on the couch,
we talk ourselves into
a fresh sunday morning,
golden through the kitchen window.
i see and feel at once, calm.
04.01.18 / golden slumbers by the beatles.
today i received a 14-page letter.
i’ve been thinking about
homesickness and how to
wash over little slumbers of
loss, of laughing, of the
homes that aren’t places.
i wrote a poem at 3am, but
it’s neither here nor there.
i’m in limbo by day and
by night, i flow wherever.
25.01.18 / cameos by swimming tapes.
unrolling you with my
new eyes, i find years and
gardens between us.
in this space again, i dance,
bathing in the swell.
i think you danced the same dance.
you always have.
29.01.18 / cigarette buzz by jane’s party.
i’m comfortable at a bar. comfortable
in the loud and crowded seats,
near the gelato sunset,
the voices of buskers.
we throw, we catch a few weeks,
the moment behind me already.
walking to the train station on a hot
night, we all meet a couple more times,
times we treasure.
31.01.18 / glowing by slaughter beach, dog.
in the small hours,
i’m floating.