I have known for years what my final tattoo would be, and now that I have it, the full picture is complete.
The Final Tattoo: Idiot, Slow Down
Endings
The Final Day: A Thank You Note
I'm using this space to say thank you to those whose lives became intertwined with mine throughout this past decade, for better or for worse (for me, mostly the former; for them, mostly the latter). This was a solitary journey for the majority of the years, yet I didn't do it on my own.
The Final 2 Weeks
10 Cities / 10 Years has been my purpose (in so many ways) for the majority of my adult life, and to that end I have focused all of my energy and drive. I've sacrificed so much on that altar...
The Final Month
There are, in fact, countless versions of my future. I don't know which one I want most.
The Spilt Milk Blues
This coming of age story lacks for maturity and protagonists We are you and not I We are I and bottom shelf whiskey, kissing slovenly like young lovers Sickly romantic, I’m depressing my fellow drunks In my solitude If there is safety in numbers, you must be secure as Fort Knox Almost got away with … Continue reading The Spilt Milk Blues
The Stones Cry Out
It’s the cavernous rumbling in my stomach that tells me you’re coming home To our silence Words bubbling to the surface, then bursting upon our walls like toxicant gas These days, I’m only happy when I’m medicated, and even then, only just so Don’t come to me wanting to press my hand While your hair … Continue reading The Stones Cry Out
