Singlehood

What does it mean to be single? To me, it's a mix of the funny and the sad moments, which can at once feel completely tragic only to then turn into a trivial anecdote, both saying more about ourselves than anyone else.

Pedicure

Appetizer

I know if I'd make myself delicious-
construct a dreamlike figment
of filters and pouts
you'd bite.
How sweet does my sadness taste?
A ripe treat to be picked or tossed-
The bitter salinity is hard to swallow.
Streaks of deep disappointment carved paths in our patterns,
the back of my head in the palm of your hand.
I know you won't accept you hurt me-
Why would you? I was never real, just a daydream to
cleanse your palate.

Bubble Girl

On good days, I tumble out of my room and into a hall of mirrors

The adornment process begins, only if I deem myself beautiful enough

If not, I roll back to bed to wait on another day.

But today is a good day.

A pretty day.

Curled lashes coated in layers of tar

The apples of my checks poised in ruby powder

And coats of gloss seal my pout

When I leave home, I look up at the trees, the birds and flowers, the silly little things I imagine no one else sees.

A small smile forms on my face, I live in a movie montage where time passes, but no one speaks.

I sit at cafes and peek into the storylines of playable characters.

What am I doing wrong?

I am out. I am pretty. I am fine, right?

After my matcha, I tumble away, up the stairs, and into bed.

Tofu

I wandered through the vegan shop.

Hoping to find enlightenment in the "oriental" aisle.

An ointment or tofu to make me well.

To rid me of this sadness, I thought I'd lost.

But the ghost of bitterness is hard to shake.

I wonder how many people come here to disassociate.

To hide from their pain by wallowing in it.

Hoping to come out a better version.

Purchased cultivation, tote bag in hand.

Over-Easy

Staying still in the room longer than you should.

Would have felt weird to leave sooner

Though it would have been good.

Trapped in false comforts.

Break free from the fuzz

before it lights up from magnified glares.

Thoughts of leave sizzle to coal

So, jump like kettlecorn.

The stale ale’s a dreary pool

sail out the room,