Unfortunately we got the opposite. But things will be okay, they always are. Disappointment is the bitterness that makes life all the sweeter
That and the world is on fire and respiratory illness is constant BUT yes also I miss making out
I performed my poetry for the first time last night, I haven't performed in any capacity over a decade much less read my own poetry. Despite shaking, and nearly crying the whole time I recieved great applause and a poet I deeply respect told me my work was really good.
I also may have started a friendship with someone. I am really proud of myself for doing scary things and growing again. Rosemary is getting xyr groove back after a very long time.
I may joke about poetry being like a disgusting bodoly function, an excretion of a spiritual fluid; but, more often than not I make poetry like I build furniture from scratch. Milling the raw lumber, shaping the individual pieces, putting them together with mortices and tenons, and working to make it into a coherent, stable whole.
Trans butch dyke, maker of things, teller of tales, author of smut. 30s
Mask4Mask