What is worth when weighed in the eyes of some other? And what be if those eyes are absent? What then? The reflected eyes above the sink? They are not always the kindest pair. Not mine. Not to me.
Tag: writing
Sunday Morning Thoughts: 11.25.18
There was a note this morning. Left from myself. Orange paper, stuck to the desk. It read, “it is good for a poet to wait in the rain.”
Sunday Morning Thoughts: 10.7.18
Just got out of work. Poured a glass of whiskey. On some principle. Or habit. This is the week, though. Anticipation abundant. It happens a different week every year, but in six of those trips around the sun, I’ve always held a reverence for this week. The lead up to my favorite show. A day…
Sunday Morning Thoughts: 9.23.18
The beer is fine on the carpet. We’ll sleep tomorrow. So today, was not what I thought it would be. As though it ever could be to be begin with. Yet still, what I had vaguely schemed the first time I attempted waking this morning was far off from what was. But looking back, I…
The Veracious Facade 