a three-line love story

i have seen you fall
and yet
i did not love you any less.

so i was sitting in a doctor’s office on tuesday, reading a book and waiting for mark, when a man walked into the waiting room and approached the receptionist. he asked if the office had a cat and said there was a kitten outside, hiding near an electrical box and running around in the rain, scared and apparently alone. without hesitation, i put down my book and went outside to find it. after a bit of a chase in the rain, and with the help of my sweater as a net, i managed to catch the little baby (and of course immediately decided to keep it). we searched for a mom or other kittens but found no sign of either, so we took our newest family member to the vet. he’s about 6-7 weeks old. he’s shy and sweet and loves to snuggle. and his name is albert.
flowers.
purple hair.

"Mr. Anderson thinks that everything inside of him is worthless and embarrassing. Isn’t that right, Todd? Isn’t that your worst fear? Well, I think you’re wrong. I think you have something inside of you that is worth a great deal."

- Robin Williams as Mr. Keating, Dead Poets Society

acupuncture.
put my hair up and noticed a distinct difference between the messy bun and the roots.
the boop.
sleepy babies.

the prisoner

i don’t know when
i started locking the door.

it just happened one day
the way most things do
unnoticed and
without any grand ceremony

i started locking the door.

i’m sure when it started
i probably thought,
“i’m locking things out,”
and i thought i was safe
that i’d created a space where -
if only just then -
i’d ensured a small fortress
of solitude.

and i did it today,
i started locking the door,
but as my thumb began grazing
that small metal button
i was suddenly aware of
the dreadful weight in
my fingers.

still i shifted the weight
i depressed that small button
(such a small metal button
or so you would think)
and in that moment
it hit me:
i’m never just locking things out
i’m always, too, locking me in.

i don’t know when
it happened

but i’m afraid to unlock the door.

getting some needed sunshine.
june 7, 2014 - six years of being in love and counting.
"West 34th Street."
he stuck his old, beat up reservoir dogs poster straight onto the wall with mod podge, and it looks so cool.