a little romance with life

Poet's Block It’s stuck in my throat It refuses to go in, it fails to come out All it does all day is ruin the taste of what I eat, All it does is flavor the words that I say; I don’t know what it wants This poem that needs to leave But wants to stay.

There are two kinds of happy places in my head Scene one is in summers Scene two in the depths of winters Here I am lying on the sand, near a beach There I sit, in the fog next to a bonfire Here, no clothes, just my skin and the wind There, wrapped around in the arms of someone I love Here, the sound of waves filling up my senses There, the calming music of your breath Here, the scent of water There, the perfume of your skin Here, the quiet bursting dance of being independent There, the joy of never feeling alone again.

How to really break up with someone You don’t have to say it again and again Sometimes it doesn't work; You can try not talking to him for a while But it’s difficult to forget a face so beautiful; Try hating him for no reason But you’ll end up hating yourself; Try, if you can, to fall in love with someone else But we all know the Ross/ Russ story*; Ask me how to really break up with someone And I’ll tell you Tell him the truth He’ll run away. *refer to Friends, Season 2 Episode 10

A Poem by a Woman I poop. I have hair everywhere. Above my lips and below them. I have hair in places you always thought had none. I have hair in places you want to visit, check out. I have eyebrows that are shaped every three weeks to look like a curve, a road, a neat path so that you don’t feel lost when you see me. I also pee. Sometimes I fart. I sneeze, more than a quiet sound, and then things come out of my nose. I love laughing out loud even if I sound like a witch. My eyes are not always full of kohl. Sometimes my lips have more than a coat of gloss, They have anger, and bitter words. Sometimes, I cry. I’m not always happy and smiling. There are nights when under the sheets my hands slip into my underwear, I masturbate. Some days my shoulders hunch, I don’t always walk straight And I like to sit with my legs wide open. Once every month, I menstruate for four days There’s blood, it’s thick and red and dark And it hurts, and it flow...

I stare at all those stars hurdled together, so natural, almost like dandruff in someone's hair and think to myself how happy they look together but also how far they are from each other, but there are so many, so many stars in the sky; I ask them if they look after each other take care of each other, or just live on their own; I often think to myself that there are so many people in the world, so many people, then why should anyone ever have to feel alone?