Someone told me yesterday that they found my writing to be romantic. My reply was, "I think I'm more of a master of heartbreak..." Maestro di crepacuore. I honestly do believe, after my most recent heart slashing, I'm done. Finnito. While I appreciate there is quite a particular romance to the utter despair only associated with slaughter of the heart - macellazione cuore - after awhile, I don't think I can take anymore. I feel the worst for...
Namaste love family TGIF bitches... this week has been as equally horrible as the preceding. I've been writing a lot of poetry over the past 48 hours. I wouldn't say it's helping, but at least it's distracting. I pride myself on not taking anything that matters to me lightly. The trick is picking what to take on as significant while spending time on the perplexing planet of Earth that we share. Regardless, we all make our own choices. Recently,...
touching transformation there is a map that leads to this: place chords; rhythm. when he spoke - light was all (eye) absorbed and i could (k)no(w) longer... i extended to become his only. becoming.
preloved purpose i can get used. by(e) - another. face. before i replace again with again... i get stuck and my heart is belonging to someone as he erases all i ha/d/ve. i can get used. scopo usato posso ottenere usato. addio - un altro. faccia. prima I sostituire ancora con ancora... mi si blocca e il mio cuore è l'appartenenza a qualcuno mentre cancella tutto quello che ha / d / ve. posso ottenere usato.
I'm about to bleed poetry. I've had my apartment back to myself for two days since having company for three weeks; as my soul mate's family revealed health issues back in Italy, which means he's out the door. I don't think I'll ever stop crying at this point. But that's ok, eyedrops help, and at least I'm discrete. Dipping into restrooms, trying to avoid houseguests. Sto morendo. While break-ups aren't my favorite thing, I feel that this abrupt...