and there she goes

Adrienne Novy,

from “on explaining chronic mental illness to a chronically ill parent,”

Crowd Surfing With God

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lifeinpoetry

Let’s take our blankets and a pint of scotch whiskey. I’ll leave my mother’s lessons behind, the same place where you’ve tucked in your old cigarettes and scattered love notes. I swear we can live off love making and strawberries. Atleast tonight.

If I could put the way I want you, it would sound like a memorial of my body mourning your absence. I want you in some ancient way, in lady Macbeth heart rolling in the dirt kind of way, the way Greek gods choose lust over righteous kind of way, the silent moans kind of way. I want you in every way the universe has conspired to keep you away from me.

Literary Sexts

 3 am thoughts

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Something I need for times like this.

Take it from me, sometimes you fuck up. You make mistakes. You make them even though you know they’re mistakes. You make them when you think you’re doing the right thing. Your mistakes are only as big as you make them out to be though.  Guess that’s what I’m learning. You’re meant to fuck up, you’re meant to have to try again sometimes, you’re meant to fail because life is about learning and failing is about finding out what you did wrong. You’re not really living if you’re not failing at something. 

My whole life I have had everything. I had two parents who love me more than anything else in their lives, and I knew it And not just that, but I have always been surrounded by people loving me, people admiring me, people telling me constantly that I am adored in this world. I have always had a roof over my head and a place to go when I was afraid. And I have always had God on my side. It’s been a long road, figuring out that no man (woman) is an island. I’m figure it out a little more every day. 

Here’s what I know about making mistakes. Only carry them for as long as you can learn from them. On the day you’ve learned as much as you can, leave them on that day and never go back for them. We make too many mistakes to carry them like stones in our pockets. Other people make too many mistakes for us to keep throwing them back in their faces. 

Michaela Leventis

,

The Bitter Vanilla

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