Wednesday, July 29, 2015
-It’s sweltering and sticky and I’m covered in mosquito bites, Paul.
-So you don’t like it here?
-No, I don’t like it here, I’m the worst version of myself here.
-But you love to scratch!
-I like to be scratched, I do not like being kept awake BECAUSE I’m scratching.
-I don’t seem to have any…
-Well why don’t you brag about it, Paul, because they seem to have forgotten the code. I even have them on my fucking face.
-What’s the code?
-I don’t know, the one that states they can’t violate me completely by biting me everywhere on my body and also my face.
-I don’t get it.
-I wouldn’t expect you to.
-Are you going to be able to handle another night?
-Well we’re here aren’t we?
-Yeah, we’re all in this together, huh?
-Mhm. You, me, and the mosquitoes.
Tuesday June 2, 2015
overheard at Higher Grounds
Trains pounding through the thin night air and landing directly beside us in bed
Mosquitoes trapped between the broken screen door and the hot summer sunset
Newborn babies trying to name their pain at every single hour
Flash floods and terrible eaves
Basement apartment and a new soggy sofa bed complete with rain-water swimming pool
Wasps building nests and forever homes in our nest and forever home
Staying up late fighting over who would get the window side
Staying up late fighting over who would get Tess and who would get Jinx