bittersweet lullabies.
Collection 2
100 days
Vinyls
beach bathroom
I love you.
you always said 'dog' wrong
100 days
April 9, 2020
“I’ve never met someone who captures my attention like this. She constantly puts a smile on my face.”
100 days.
100 days I kept a journal, willing myself to live.
I was grateful for my friends even when they were so far away. I was grateful for my young
nephew whose naivety brightened everything. I was grateful for good food and vision correction.
I was grateful for writing and for music, for opportunity and for kind strangers.
I’d write down every little win from the day.
I ate better today. I did 100 squats in my room. I watched football with my brother. I finally
made a friend, even though we’d only hangout the one time.
I was grateful for the loves I’d lost. For a job that let me take the day off when the panic was too
much to bear.
January 21, 2020
“I’m grateful for ------… I was supposed to keep this out of here, but the fact she still entertains
my stupid ass is such a blessing. She doesn’t even know the extent to which she saves me.”
I started learning piano. I set up a new therapist appointment for Thursday. 100 push-ups but I
couldn’t eat because of the panic attacks. I made a promise to bounce back the next day and I
did.
100 days.
100 days I kept a journal, willing myself to live.
February 13, 2020
“I am grateful for planned vacations… I’m waking up every day now excited for FL.”
I was grateful for the freedom I felt posting my art. I was grateful for the February air in Texas,
blowing through my hair on cathartic runs.
I went to Florida and everything changed. A global pandemic swept the nation, and I was trapped
in a foreign land with her. And after April 9th , I stopped journaling.
100 days. I’d found a ray of sunshine slipping through the dense clouds and I’d basked in it.
That journal saved my life until I could get to her. For that I’ll be forever grateful.
Vinyls
I got a gift, one like never before.
A new vinyl record, left right on my porch.
I grab it and run it back straight to my room.
The freshly wrapped plastic shines bright like the moon.
I pull the wrapping off carefully, taking my time,
Engulfed in the beauty of artists’ design.
I brush my fingers ‘cross the case’s smooth face,
And I try to slow down when I feel my heart race.
I gently open it up by its delicate lips,
Lightly touch the disc’s edges with soft fingertips
And it fits perfectly, in the frame that it lay,
I move the needle, and it starts to play.
The sound is so beautiful, it’s a perfect love song.
I close my eyes dancing and it moves along.
The floor washes away, replaced by the sea
And it’s only that vinyl, this ocean, and me.
I’ve heard many songs before, been swept up in their waves,
But when a new one arrives, never quite feels the same.
I hope that this album stays playing for years
And that my music also, brings you to tears.
The water in my room settles and evaporates,
A quiet interlude slips into its place,
And now we stop and stare, to see if we each feel the same.
And there’s something so unsettling, that vulnerable space.
I opened my mouth, but it was you that spoke first,
You said you’ve never heard a song like mine on all planet Earth.
And we smiled and laughed, yeah we laughed ‘til we cried.
You were an instant classic. The best of all time.
beach bathroom.
I fell in
Love. With. You.
On a bench outside of a dingy disgusting beach
Bath. Room.
And I saw by a wink of your cheek with a smile that you
Loved. Me. Too.
Now what
Do. We. Do?
We sped down highways all over the country with
Hand. In. Hand.
And I promised we’d go until we found the ocean and
Left. Dry. Land.
It was a blue world without you but now I am watching as
Blue. Eyes. Scan.
Looking for
West. Coast. Sand.
And I think we might
Get. There.
We have fumbled and been lost but no one said that love would
Be. Fair.
You are my
Self. Care.
I hope that we
Get. There.
I fell in
Love. With. You.
On a bench outside of a dingy disgusting beach
Bath. Room.
And I saw by a wink of your cheek with a smile that you
Loved. Me. Too.
I’ll never give
Up. On. You.
I love you.
I kept those love letters you wrote me
Because I loved you too much
To get rid of them.
Years later, having forgotten they were there
I stumbled upon them anew.
I got rid of them then, not because I didn't love you anymore, but
Because I loved you too much still
To keep them.
you always said 'dog' wrong
I’m looking for more than just a glimpse of us in her
But I guess I’m not built for southern jezebelles,
Donning white laurels, galloping horseback out of Hell.
And I’ve found it’s quite annoying, too
When they’re sent here straight from Heaven,
Highlighting my imperfections, spiting my deadly sevens.
When the rain kisses my window, I roll over just to miss you
Told myself you were just a little freak but it seems I do more than wonder,
Reminded of your eyes when the skies erupt with thunder.
I put down my piano and you picked up a guitar
I wonder if when you sit down, you only play songs in D Minor,
Composing symphonies in your mind with complementary choirs.
I wonder if your fingers bleed with your heart
When the chords don’t come out right and you let out an angry growl,
When the noise from skin to string to air produces something foul.
I hope you know I’m good at picking them
‘Cause even when you play sour notes that reek of rot decay,
On my bad days, I pull old pressed records out to play.
And in those records exists more than just a glimpse.
They’re stories I’ll forever cherish as I watch you grow into your best self—the woman you
would always become. Wherever that takes you, whoever with. What we created was the music
of life and I hope you never stop adding to your collection.
And we smiled and laughed, yeah we laughed ‘cause we tried.
You were an instant classic.