Nona was always a gracious host— Even after her knitted socks began to Resemble amorphous clouds of colour, Even after locks on doors lost their usefulness Much like the Volkswagen in her garage, Even when she began to call me by my Mother’s name, even after she lost her ability To go on evening walks … Continue reading Sunday Mornings
Category: Leftovers from TinyPurpleMe
The Pocket Check
(Wallet) She was seven when she needed to store change for the ice-cream truck, (Wallet, keys) Seventeen when Dad gave her the keys to his old van, (Phone, wallet, keys) Twenty-three when work decided to follow her around. Seasons came and went, sunglasses replaced gloves, inhalers replaced umbrellas. (Phone, wallet, keys, sanitizer, mask) But for the … Continue reading The Pocket Check
Grandma Pierre was a facetious woman, of this little was known. Before she passed, she bestowed seven rubies upon her sons. A revolution came: seven grandsons attempted their sales, to escape. All, but one, turned out fake. Grandma Pierre was a facetious woman. Of this, much is known.
What a year it has been— and my understanding of world events only spans the most popular conversations on Reddit forums. However, while we watched the world as we know it cease to exist in 2017, I personally made strides toward better mental health. It’s been a struggle since I first moved out to the … Continue reading In Retrospect
The Coliseum and the Girl
She marches, miles away from home, Yet holding her own, wading further away, fighting the currents. Yearning for friendships long rusted by distance and time zones, The belief in belonging nearly withered, but not. Mild intoxication is all it takes to scratch the surface: Oozing insecurities, fatal inexperience, grave misdeeds. Faltering her steps, while on … Continue reading The Coliseum and the Girl
Every gust of crisp wind, Every crack in the skin, Every fissure in the crust, Every whisper to the heavens, Every gaze up to the clouds, Every seeded grain, Set upon a single question, The only question, The oldest question: How long until?
The First Encounter
It was a cold and dreary night, an awful night to be out on a hunting spree for a blue Lamborghini. My partner looked over at me. Chad could sense my restlessness. 'What is it?' I turned away from the road and flipped out my phone. 'Remind me again why we're doing this?' 'We're two … Continue reading The First Encounter
She lowered him into his cradle, whispering sweet nothings as his eyes fluttered shut. Luke appeared at the door, catching her mid-reverie in the unfinished nursery.
Close your eyes, make a wish. Bring back the scratching of quill on parchment, The streaming of sunrise over my shoulder while I prod a book. Quiet nights filled with guitar strums and humour, Sunny evenings of sipping tea with my soul sister. Maybe a fewer nights of staring into the lonely void, And a … Continue reading Dandelions
It's here again, and a tad too soon would be an understatement. At 12 tonight I will join my friends and family in celebration, but from miles away and hours behind . I cannot express how excruciating this year has been. I watch helplessly from afar as the lives of my closest friends take arcs … Continue reading Hullo, World