I'm looking California

And feeling Minnesota

gahhh i love soundgarden so much. 

 

i have sung the moon
i've wept and 

picked up pieces, i find time to rejoice
underneath suckle skies
i have sung the moon 
gracious and vivacious
tarnished both
her and i 
I have sung to the moon
and here i am still 

swallowing her
sorrows 

Fiona Apple - Sessions at West 54th (Live in New York, 1997) [Full Concert]

 

i still don’t think you know what you need. 

if this love was handed to you in a glass mason jar, you would throw it at the wall. to find its outcome. you wouldn’t hold it, and rock it to bed. you would dissect  every piece, full pieces or torn apart. you wouldn’t find a way in. 

where you say you’d like to be, but if i’m honest, you don’t know what it’s like to be inside. 

you wish you were in this position, but i gave you the moon when it was full. with yellow golden hues, like you have asked. i walked to the highest mountains while holding your hands, i gave you the ocean on a paper plate. and you still didn’t comprehend. you still made me scream loud words with no meaning. you made winter tears roll down my face. 

you’re a tall man with a lot to say, but when the time comes and your mouth won’t shut, 

i see words falling, in a static kind of way and  i hear nothing. 

so, you say you might be dying…. but aren’t we all?

 

 

a murder of moths
swallowed by the black sky.
while the ancient sun, shines.

 

i am that woman

and i know what 

i need, what i want.

so just follow my lead,

my feet.

 

goodbye march 2025

you make me feel so nervous,

    so anx i o u s. almost like i don't belong.

i start to feel my own skin slipping.

      slipping right off my bones.

i see movement from your mouth but 

nothing makes sense and the static in my ears: that begins.

you act so big, so tall, 

like the world belongs to you and only you.

   but quite frankly no one

owes you a damn thing. (not even yourself)

so get off your high horse 

before your forehead 

hits the ceiling and all 

comes crashing down. i've never felt this 

feeling, but you make me so nervous,

so anxious, i swear my skin is slipping

right off

my 

bones.

 

poem

 i know it's hard for you to fathom,

    but i do better in the freezing cold.

something about the bleak bitterness, 

sends electric shock and makes me feel whole,

   as one.

i can    f o c u s. 

    (the only time) i can really focus.

such an underrated band