I don’t want to be afraid anymore.

Tags: writing

The French Singer

You knew it was over

So you started searching for girls

To sing to you in French.


Voilà!

As her lips drew a perfect pout

Over a passable pronunciation.


I felt a sick sense of peace

When she was exactly as I imagined:

Possibility raising her brow.


We kissed and I walked away.

The bottom of the staircase

and an empty bottle of bourbon.


How long was it exactly

from the moment you decided to fuck her

until she never wanted to see you again?


What did you say when

she asked you who I was?


jej

Tags: poetry

I’m going to see this on the big screen tomorrow night. 

Godard makes me feel a lot of feelings that I’d just rather not. Still, the only way out is through, no? 

Breathless (1960) Hotel Scene - Jean Seberg / Jean-Paul Belmondo (by Lettucemonkey)

This is me with my grandparents on the day I graduated high school in 2001. That little lady on your left, she’s a marvel.
I interviewed her once for a school project and she talked about how she had a dream to be a doctor. As we discussed why that never happened she said, ”It never occurred to me that I couldn’t be a doctor because I was a woman.” Isn’t the world lucky that that sort of tenacity has lived in it for almost a century?
She used to always tell me, “Now, Jennifer, pretty is as pretty does. Remember that.” I hated it. I thought it was the worst thing you could say to me ever. It took me too long to realize the lesson wasn’t about appearance but grace. 
I look at these two folks and feel mountains of gratitude. They raised a fine daughter, one step in the series of events that brought me to this world and made me the woman I am.
Always love. Happy Mother’s Day. 

This is me with my grandparents on the day I graduated high school in 2001. That little lady on your left, she’s a marvel.

I interviewed her once for a school project and she talked about how she had a dream to be a doctor. As we discussed why that never happened she said, ”It never occurred to me that I couldn’t be a doctor because I was a woman.” Isn’t the world lucky that that sort of tenacity has lived in it for almost a century?

She used to always tell me, “Now, Jennifer, pretty is as pretty does. Remember that.” I hated it. I thought it was the worst thing you could say to me ever. It took me too long to realize the lesson wasn’t about appearance but grace. 

I look at these two folks and feel mountains of gratitude. They raised a fine daughter, one step in the series of events that brought me to this world and made me the woman I am.

Always love. Happy Mother’s Day.