summer girl winter Queen

Published March 17, 2014 by pipsqueak


Hades springs on me, I am a girl

he craves my blush, sweet flesh, my summer curls.

I calcify in that abysmal land

as he turns docile in my tiny hands

I gulp the wine that trickles from the dark

I am a coal mine waiting for a spark

desecration crowned me, I am Queen

naïveté turned into something keen

my wide-eyes summer is forever done

it wilts to rot beneath a bleaker sun

the warmth falls through my feet and wanders south

i drink the power from his seeking mouth


and in the spring she becomes a giant lung

Published May 6, 2013 by pipsqueak

expanding with a gasp, gulping in the fresh air
she unfolded herself and allowed herself to breathe
she is aerated, the yellow sunlight glowing through
her skin, illuminating that soft shadow of her bones
and the trails the mice gnawed through her
during the stiffling winter, when she was packed away
in moldering cardboard boxes in a musty basement
but now her thread-veins, which doodle through her flesh
like the roots of slender-stemmed violets.
they pump as lively quick as a baby bird heart.

some suggestions for the non-native speaker of my language

Published May 2, 2013 by pipsqueak

hello. i am not at the phone right now!

here are some options for leaving me a message:

cover my entire body in crackle nail polish so i have a thin, stylish shell

kiss me 3-8 times on the lips, and then once on the top of my head

drizzle brine onto my cheeks so i can pretend i was having a torrential weeping session

present to me an innocent handful of cake

swipe a new scar onto my gooseflesh

gallop down the streets at 3 in the morning with me on ever-restless legs


Published April 24, 2013 by pipsqueak

i understand the sorrow of the solemn, round-faced teenage girl
who wears long denim skirts on Fridays with her sisters
and reads the dusty words of the Brönte sisters
she frowns upon her drunken, asinine peers – the fools!
but secretly she craves the flare, the fire of that brash athlete
who tramples and roars with his brash athlete cronies
he goes home and slumps on the side of his bed
blank, deflated of all movement
where the framework of approval is lost
in this boneless aloneness, he will certainly covet
the independence from the crack pipe of popularity
possessed by the pink-haired student
who talks back, snorts, flips the bird
and carves knotty roots upon his desk with a ballpoint
when his classmates call him a queer
but he is not free either. he sees me and wishes for
my goofiness, my guileless and earnest greetings
i’m like a fat pound cake, preserved and pre-packaged
so you can fully enjoy each moist tender morsel

now i envy no-one more than the petrified redwood
whose bark tears up the insides of the insects who bite it

on re-meeting that child i babysat a year ago

Published April 23, 2013 by pipsqueak

the round eyes of this mini-monk,

fringed with the pale-blonde lashes of the very young,

regard me calmly

he was bouncing, boisterous, when i saw him last

and now he carries his ten years

on his small knobby shoulders

like the robe of a scholar prince

and seems taken aback at my manic pleasure

at seeing him ask polite questions, a tiny gentle man

he couldn’t see the change, he is change incarnate

i ask him if he still plays with legos

and i think he’s annoyed at the bittersweet poignancy i attach to this question

“yeah, but don’t seem so sad about it, so do you”

restless girlfriends

Published April 22, 2013 by pipsqueak

we recognized in each other the liquid darkness

that beaded like mercury behind the black of our eyes

appalled by the glaring muchness of the world

we shrank back to a den, whispered dark ideas into each other’s ears

there is no rest in this world, not even in your thin arms

my black lace sleeve netted over fishbelly wrist

trading nausea through kisses

teeth chattering in anorexic mouthes

wide eyed, never falling asleep

Blog theme? What blog theme?

Published April 21, 2013 by pipsqueak

writing is the hardest thing ever


to my 44 followers: thank you so much for honoring with me your attention. I am extremely grateful to you.

lately, however, I have been posting less and less. and I’m not sure what to talk about. Being, as I am, a college freshman with neurotic tendencies, a penchant for veganism and sweets, little to no good advice to give, and… I don’t know. Facing the question of “what could I possibly have to offer?” is a tricky thing, and I’m not sure what to say to myself in reply.

I guess I started this blog so that I would be forced to write things. And write I did… badly, but often. And in the time-honored tradition of sitting at the proverbial typewriter and bleeding, I count that as a victory. But lately I’ve been thinking too much, doing too much, and being really unfocused in general. That’s the thing about college: you’re so busy doing a zillion tiny tasks that the sort of meditative attitude required to let thoughts bubble up from the grab bag of your unconscious can be drowned by anxiety.

So I’d kind of been just writing about… whatever. But as much as writing exercise is great for you, I think that if you don’t have anything to say, there’s no point in trying to say something. As with any art form/thing you can do, you should probably only devote yourself to writing if you have that you are burning to tell the world.

And I do. Because I’m a human who lives on this planet, my life is interesting and rich. But I’m still figuring out what sentiments I want to communicate and how best to transmit them. And for this reason, I would like to say that this blog has been and will probably continue to be a wordy sandbox that doesn’t have much in the way of continuity and common themes. I started out with a rant about the pseudointellectuals at Philosophy club, wrote some poetry about depression, reviewed some books, wrote some less sad poetry, and then kind of froze. I’m still at a loss for what my voice should be. I’ve decided to try to keep writing, though, without too much worry about focusing on one subject, and see what happens. This post is evidence of that.

So thank you, followers, for bearing with me and reading, and I hope I will amuse you as I continue to feel around for what I should be doing. I hope to post more frequently. And if you find my unfocusedness annoying rather than edifying, I will take no offense if you unfollow.