I AM NOT AFRAID OF GOD, I AM AFRAID OF OF MAN.

no.

SIGHT // small towns. big cities. six thirty curfews. lights that take the place of stars. blanket nests. light through the blinds as a wake up call. found family. finding a single star in the middle of new york city. window shopping. watching something terrible and enjoying it. growing numb to the sight of injustice. wilted flowers. faded caricatures. bright, bold colors.

HEARING // crickets and lightning bugs. car engines and ac units. a phone call to mom/dad. laughing with friends. jokes that are so bad you have to laugh. the clicking of computer keys. noise cancelling headphones. the sound of silence. muffled music from another room. drumming fingertips on a table. clicking of pens. listening to a clock and swearing the ticks get slower. ringing in the ears. the voice of someone you love. pitch shifted songs.

TOUCH // being held close during a long night. fleeting reassurances. holding hands when you’re scared. brushing fingers through strands of hair. freshly dried clothes. bruises on your knuckles. silk and satin. your favorite pet’s fur or feather. wringing your hands anxiously. snuggies. comforters in the dead of winter. nails against skin. cold metal. leather in summer.

TASTE // coffee in the morning. tea in the evening. bubblegum that lost its flavor. alcohol burning the back of your throat. homemade cooking, no matter what’s made. blood in your mouth. stale air. mint. fresh vegetables. the first meal you cook by yourself that tastes good. foreign sweets. fast food. bittersweet. sour. spicy. sweet. bitter. too much salt on fries.

SMELL // morning glories and honeysuckles. freshly cut grass. hot chocolate in the middle of winter. nail polish. acetone. hospital rooms. smoke. hair spray. your favorite shampoo/conditioner. the scent of home. perfume. cologne. mint. something burning. wet dogs. copper. metal. unemptied ash trays. something familiar yet different.