a rainbow octopus
crocheted
just for me!
[i can be such a
parody of myself]
[but i’m not mad about it
because i got a
crocheted rainbow octopus out of it!]
a rainbow octopus
crocheted
just for me!
[i can be such a
parody of myself]
[but i’m not mad about it
because i got a
crocheted rainbow octopus out of it!]
remind me of my past
the parts i like, i mean
and hang out with me into the darkness
talking
reminiscing
reminding
planning
hoping
scheming
and gathering new memories
for later hangouts’ nostalgia
friendship is so important
but why does it make me so
nervous?
the problem with having dreams
about places and people you haven’t seen
in some time, is that they all tend to
mesh
and merge
together, becoming one big amalgamation of
The Past™
or This Point In My Life™
or Anyone And Anything I Haven’t Thought Of In A While™
and though i appreciate
that my brain is constantly churning
even at night
and never lets anything
go,
i do wish the memories were
clearer,
so i could actually contact
whoever my subconscious
is missing
at any given point
and actually reach out to them
and say
hello
babies
and puppers
and friends we haven’t seen
in forever
and ships passing in the night
for some we
wish to see
but anyone missed
is always welcome
in nyc
how
come
how come
how come i don’t reach out
until the last minute?
[i mean, i know why — it’s because i’m so scared of putting forth the full effort
just to be ignored or forgotten, as i have in the past, but this way if i can’t be seen
it’s all circumstantial and that doesn’t mean people love me any less…]
[sometimes i wish i knew less about myself]
wholesome giggles
planning secrets
for the sharing
buying surprise presents
in front of the recipient
without them even
knowing
why does the word “sly”
have so much of a bad vibe
can’t the connotation be
best friends
planning
for a joyful reveal?
make up for something you’ve done,
a sin or just
a blunder,
and see how long it takes
for you to forgive yourself
vs
how long it takes
for others
to even realize
you’ve done
wrong.
i’m unsure the point i’m trying to make with this poem,
but i think it has something to do with
our own perceptions of our own
moralities —
and while i’d rather my friends live
guilt-free lives,
i’d also rather have as friends
those who make sure to
do right by those they’ve wronged
well past when we’ve forgotten,
than those who think their morality
is beyond
reproach
click your heels together
and say
“there’s no place
like home
there’s no place
like home”
but if home isn’t a place
it’s a feeling
it’s a space for you to
know your own true you
aren’t the heels simply clicking
on the road
to your friends
your clique
your crew
your coconspirators
and comrades
and found family?
is that the truth?
fearing
social interaction
but needing it
for life and living
how do i even survive
one friendship at a time
a dream
of mine
is to coax a cat inside —
any one of our outdoor cats
whom i feed daily
and try to get them used to me
by standing
and waving
and saying
“i love you”
every time they so much as glance at me
and yesterday
i did it!
[but now we have to deal with an un-neutered male cat
with potential fleas…
but at least i have a friend who works with felines like this
and can help with all the
meds
and fostering
and surgeries
10 out of 10 friendship]