Special thanks to Vale, the mentioned friend










































































































oscillating from
disassociation to despair
i try to write a poem &
i can’t
so i read abt vultures puking
& shitting on an NYC couple’s luxury condo in florida
& how one rogue neighbour kept feeding them
whole roast supermarket chickens
that relationship to chaos
is intimately familiar
i try to write a poem & 
i can’t
& instead lie on the sofa 
& watch six episodes of love island 
& fall asleep & wake up & find
a perfect crop circle of drool
sometimes the poems
come to u
it’s been one of those weeks
where i’m so busy, far too busy to
cry cinematically in the shower
or dramatically on the floor
or luxuriously in my bed
which is quite frankly, not ok…
life is like being slapped in the face
the responsible party shouting 
[redacted]
as they walk away
flipping the bird w/ a perfect manicure
i wish i could be as useful 
to the world
as that cult Maybelline mascara
but my long-term infected tragus piercing
is a reminder that my body 
takes time to heal
last year i thought
everything was 
expansive
the truth is
everything has limits
pressing inwards 
like a stern finger
it’s like a chronic chicken shortage at kfc
it’s like wearing ur best gown to the met gala
& getting locked in the toilet
a friend told me that
her mother said 
flowers are condensed light
& that’s what bodies are
& that’s what feelings are
& that’s what you & i are
& that’s what this world is
& i sure am 
going to miss all of this light
when it’s gone





Return to Tell Me Like You Mean It volume 4.