She Has Phases Like The Moon,

I only will love you - to the end of your lips.

And immediately stop - right after this kiss.

I've forgotten where exactly.

My fat ass: *looks at the nutrition label*

"If you adjust calories for inflation, I'm actually under eating."

Of number twos.

Some may not give a shit (or two).

Others may take a shit.

Me, I often have a shit,

when people sometimes lose their shit.

You are on infinite repeat. ❣️🔁❣️

Secrets always taste better,

as they leave the mouth.

I use to like riding the metro around the city with with no predetermined destination.

Joke

I asked Siri a question and she told me, " I don't know! Who the fuck I look like!? Google?"

I loved how the universe manifested itself as her. And for that brief moment in billions of years, I was there for it.

A good life is lived on the half beat.

And is filled full with the absurd, and contradicts itself often.

And all our time spent is either sex and/or distractions from death.

And a lot of arguments begin with miscommunication and live on longer than they should because we make up excuses for our honor.

And money and comforts are wasted if they're not in service of big wrinkly laughs and smiles.

And is too short for me not to feel warm and rosy by the color pink or cry during good books and movies or care if other dudes think it's weird that I like Hello Kitty.

And is too long for me to hate people for loving who they love or what they believe in or when they cut in front of me at the market or lie to me about needing change for the bus but they're really buying beer, it's all okay if they come to me with a smile or positivity, because everyone deserves dignity and sometimes an asshole is an asshole and a nice person is a nice person.

it really doesn't matter to me if the earth is flat or round or that a god (or goddess) exists or doesn't exist or aliens built the pyramids because none of that stopped my step father from getting drunk and beating me or my mom and it didn't stop my mom from dying from cancer.

And seeing how free she was in old pictures, living like unapologetic wildfire, bending time and space to her terms I could finally love her as an individual and outside the context of a mother.

not being embarrassed anymore by how I look because those looks are the living history of the great women before me.

And that none of this is any kind of new revelation.