dec 22

it’s hard to remember days but i remember feelings. i remember last week i felt peace i felt my power. i bought silly shoes on royal st. i ate a bagel alone on the river. biked through saints traffic to broadmoor to drop off cigarettes and books to a, to no avail. that was monday. dec 16. 2 months. i thought the pain left but it still comes. in different ways. in different times. i stopped taking my wellbutrin for a week, maybe 2, im not sure. i want to feel it dissipate the cloud of depression. give me energy. unintended side affects.

i know the dark, ay, no doubt i know the dark. it’s not here right now.

i guess ive been gifted a sort of numbness? i cannot feel and i feel far away. but i can do some other things. im glad.

less dependent on xanax. the pain is manageable, the shock is gone. their death is a fact. oo but even as i write that i feel a sting. ok, maybe it’s not a fact yet.

their voice fades. “i love you” i wish i could hear it. come to me.

my horoscope told me to learn how to lucid dream. as if it’s just like that. but- i do believe this brain is all i have and it’s more than i can imagine. robert is in there, loving me. i need to get there. down liquid melatonin and pray to the dark to take me there tonight.



puerto rico

i sat heavy with my pain in puerto rico. i had to approach the cop in my head with a machete. robert saw me, yes, but what did they see about me that i value so much? i invest so much time into worrying about forgetting. assuming i have no self left already. when it’s all i have.

i almost do things and then i don’t and i ask myself, why not? for what are you bowing? every checkpoint is gone. there is only yourself standing between you and freedom.

aphorisms that mean nothing if not read in the right time.

ive changed before and ill do it again.

i will not your love for me define me.

you broke my trust in the most painful way. all signs point to give in. but im not this place. im not that person or their love. im not my friends im not my job im not even my experiences.

ive lost my confidence before and i can get it again. i can taste the lemony edges of it. that almost-arrogance, that unshakable boldness. i am almost upon it. coming into my own. it will save me.



the end of the world (is yours)

Maybe someone u thought was your friend hurt you deep, and you thought you’d go home and take the drugs that ease your hurt. But instead, you go to the end of the world and get naked on the picnic table where you shared intimate moments with your lover a few days before they died.

Glaring under the horn of the Natchez riverboat wheels, that offensive echo of the calliope bouncing off the mississippi; strangers approaching, then retreating.

I lay naked breathing out my anger, my mace switched open and held in my fingers. I am not afraid, I am ready, I am free. How many years to get all three?

Detering the curious erections half-formed, softened by my face. Is it the lines in my face or the dark in my eyes that deter you?  Is it that I chose to be free, I chose to roll my eyes at the imposition of fears, your control. Non-binary, not a femme. 32 AA cup iow, i need nothing. Stop coming for my perky nipples, stop coming for my tiny body. I’m strong and, worse, I’m too broken to feel fear.


This is the place my lover sucked my toes in mid-afternoon 3 days before they died, where we moaned so loud half nude on the picnic table sun that we scared would-be approachers away. We made the place ours with just our carnal pleasure.

I took your photo but it didn’t capture how beautiful you were to me. That golden light.

Now it’s me alone but your bravery is with me. Thank you for giving me the courage, the knowledge of nothing mattering and with it the freedom and with it the world.

you motherfucker i loved you.




a faint pink line

last night was unexpectedly difficult bc i took a pregnancy test and it was positive. this was really unexpected as i got my period a week after robert died. i started to think of possibly having their baby and actually felt good about the idea. i can direct my energy and attention to another being and, i can have a part of robert in the world. i imagined telling their family and being a part of their world too. i dreamt of it.

but this morning a digital test said negative and i bled a little. K says it might be signs of a miscarriage. it’s so confusing bc i’ve never wanted to have a child like this. but yeah, the thought of having theirs filled me with hope and joy. but i didn’t realize i as feeling that way until i read the digital test, saw the blood in the water. i felt suddenly even more alone.

i have to get out of this city. i have to move on. at this point it feels really hard to do that. impossible in a lot of ways. but i need to live in a place where people actually stay. also though, maybe i need to travel while i can. i hate traveling but i need to get out of my comfort zone. i know i need that. i say this covered in lush blankets and heating pad, 4 xans deep. but wow. yeah.




wondering if you are good enough gets very tiresome. there’s only a short window.

yesterday i thought of my student debt for some reason and smiled at the thought of how glad i am that i don’t care about it. we are all dying and im supposed to lived some suckered halflife indentured servitude to pay for an education i deserve? cutting my spending, working weekends, valorizing my labor to the cause of becoming clean by american capitalist standards. “lol,” i thought. in certain ways, im already free.

today is really hard, surprise surprise, sunday. i woke at 5:45 am and couldnt fall back asleep. took another walsom. weird trembling in my head when im laying a certain way. i thought if i was still up, id go to yoga at 830. then i thought i could do a long ride to that planetarium in the east. but the more i thought i could do it, the more i got sleepy. dreamt of a girl i follow on ig that i dont know and dont know why i follow. kill me.

last night, i popped by the rojava show at the mudlark for a minute. but i took a benadryl and 2 xanax right before i left, hoping the high would hit and give me enough time to be around. stressing about seeing julie, jonah and ppl robert was cheating on me with. disappointed in myself for that bc there’s really nothing left to fear. i should be free in that sense. in the least. but no, i insist on trapping myself in fake stresses so that my face permanently wrinkles into an angry worry. im not good enough is the underlying thought. everyone else has alcohol to ease that thought. me and my soft drugs, it’s not enough.

looped back onto port to ride, listening to the first at the drive in. thinking of that story robert told me of fighting off 3 guys with their ulock and their headset was still playing at the drive in. ha.

i think that im safe in sleep, but im not. i am my biggest enemy right now. chemical depression clinging to my tissues. if you hadnt cheated on me, this wouldnt be as hard.




today it was 77 degrees. i overslept and missed pilates but turns out pilates was canceled anyway so it didn’t matter. i went to open studio at around 1 and did my ashtanga routine. afterwards, i sat with my yoga high on the bench. listening to the breeze in the trees. thinking abour robert telling their brother about how everything is music you just have to be tuned into their station. last sat i found if i get hugh and listen to certain songs, i feel my heart and if i tune into the station, i feel robert. it’s a cathartic activity, now one you gave do a lot. but i shivered and sighed and cried and let out little girly mourning vocals. no one was home. it felt good. ‘but today after yoga a darkness descended upon me. i felt i would just go home and lay in bed all day. then i got on my bike and the darkness lifted.

the problem is: the high feels so good. i want that high all the time. but i black out on it now. and my tolerance is so high that i have to take less so i have enough.

im tired of jokey chit chat. im not playing with my full deck of intellect. im honing in on the lowest common denominator. i think if robert lifting me up out of that. the a=way they would talk to me and i couldn’t tell if they were starting a fight with me or not. but i met them there, there intensity and their willingness to jump into conflict so bravely nudged a better part of me. i loved talking to them like this. i loved them.

feel a little pre-occupied with my future and why i cant connect with anyone in nola. maybe its drinking culture. maybe its the transience of everyone. i feel worried about showing up with my whole self AND connecting with other humans before i die. im a whole person, where’s the rest. robert would bring so much. to come to them and sit on the couch with them, putting my leg over there leg, feeling their soft warm taught skin. they held me tight and said “YES!” when they arrived, everything else faded back into the dumb bullshit it is. We were in real life together. they made me so happy. and that’s not even a thinking i believe in. but fuck, i would just ride my bike smiling all the time. i was happy.



i’m stupid and i hate it

my healing is not in a linear path and i find that very frustrating. I will be really good, ok and then back to where i was weeks ago the next day, next moment. i am struggling with being present in my self. i had a real panic last night. and then today i am OBSESSING over how they wronged mew, how the lied. like a detective. the worst thought is that they didnt love me. I cannot bear that thought. I wish they were here to re-assure me. to tell me it’s insane to think they don’t love me, that i’m not smart and beautiful. that i’m not allowed to talk badly about myself. fuck, i hate that i need that validation. i always do this in relationships. i have a totally manageable sense of self and then once i date someone, i give t all away in exchange for what the other thinks of me. and iot takes moths to recover. ive recovered before. but this, fuckm it’s so final. i cant just se them. ever. they are in the ground.

i want and sometimes believe they are in my heart as well. im in high danger of becoming “spiritual” which i very much resent, as a rule, but I’m learning to realize that I don’t know everything about who i am. what a selfish activity though- to delve into more of who i am. as if there aren’t other people around.


I tried to go to pagoda on my way to work to sip my expensive pour-over decaf and read and “relax” – shake off last night. but the phoniness of others filled me with disgust. eh, it’s not rage, it’s true I’m hardly ever angry anymore. frustrated, yes, but anger, I don’t really have it. remember to count your blessings, your steps forward and back, back, back.

i feel my hair thinning and my chin fattening up. my size six pants fit me,  i haven’t even tried the zeroes i usually wear. i relish sweets and food. it’s all i look forward to. but i am pms-ing so i like to forgive myself. when will this period come and wash away these feelings. ugh help.