hello, you.

breathe it in. sit with the feeling. any plans this weekend? please find the agreement attached. let me know if you have any questions. have you met yourself? get in line, soldier. our plans fell through. have you looked into therapy? i find that it helped heal my inner child. i saw this thing on tiktok. let me google it. have you read this piece in the new yorker? can’t believe you still shop at SHEin - it’s child slavery. i haven’t caught up with you in so long, what’s up? i met this guy on tinder. i started pilates. i take collagen now. i haven’t felt something real in 4 years. i want to quit my job - can you get me a plastic straw please for the love of god. i cry myself to sleep every night thinking of your face staring back at me with a dismayed apprehension. i want someone to appreciate all the work i do every day to stay alive - i laugh when my dreams ask me if i’m real. i’m not, i haven’t been for years. are you self aware? snap out of it. buy another face mask. self care! the commodification of the female body is in direct connection with its abundant and careless depiction as an object to be used and discarded. edit and discard, save your draft. please note that i will be out of office until Friday, for emergencies please hesitate to contact me at - i never feel at peace. i’m never alone. i consume constantly. name a hobby, i can’t think straight. queer thoughts and musings. i wanna start a cult. i never want to be inside a hospital again. get over yourself. you think, therefore you shop. consumer culture fuels me. fuel’s expensive. rent’s expensive. zara t-shirts are expensive. i think of us. i think of war and famine and homelessness. reality tv makes the thoughts stop. my own inability to produce originality is astounding. i could have stolen this. i am not one person, i am everyone i have ever met or followed. how many likes can i get - you should post more selfies, that’s why you don’t have a boyfriend. 

you’re so pretty, if only you were interesting. 

ancient lovers suspended in fossilised amber, archaeologists have found what it meant to feel before history happened.

they carried their souls in a breath, i feel it too; a beauty lost to museums and relics.

i see them; i try to touch them - intervene in their time and make them mine.

i want to be part of them as much as they want to be a part of me.

i des

i think my bones should have a place to rest even before i die. i am of myth; forged of steady ground, of marble stone and blazing sun.  

the cypriot

from copper I’ve grown 

to attack and repulse, 

regretful,

but it is my birth right.

EREBUS

I come from chaos and earth and eros.

At night, I put honey under my tongue
I think it’s sweet and it makes me say less
Sticky tongues rarely make trouble
I’ll show my teeth instead
 
I like my teeth, I’d like to keep them
I like my skin, wrinkles make me nervous
I’m a good girl, I don’t drink, I don’t smoke
I like my teeth, I’d like to keep them
 
In the dead of silence, I keep my noise close
I say I won’t turn back but then I just might
I come from Chaos’ deepest crevices
I will return.

samuel beckett walking down a street
sandals and a book bag
tanned and grey, what a looker
he's going somewhere!

now imagine we were there
just behind him, round the corner
balancing on one foot
waiting to snap a picture

decided to walk to the supermarket
in need of some fruit and butter
passed by two coffee places
stopped at the one with the golden retriever at the door

same coffee served in different cups
i can't drink any more
can't hold the cups
my hands are just full of words

breeze moving the hairs on my neck
sun behind clouds makes me think there's something wrong with my vision
something new
i collect pieces of my walk in my book

i mistake the asparagus for something else
i laugh at my self
sometimes you need to laugh at yourself
i bought some of the asparagus

now walking back i can't remember
which street it was
the left the right the 4th the 5th
it's been getting difficult to distinguish

facts are never considerate of memory
i have come to understand
if you erase the past it is still there
gripping you with real images and impressions

the street was
how do i say this without sounding existential
the street was empty yet the air was full
i remember that

memory plays tricks on me
facts swoop in to save the day
remind me of the tangerines i did not buy
oops have to turn back again

scents

i connect scents like a draw-by-numbers,

with moments and memories
like when you look at film negatives and

you can vaguely see - you can vaguely remember 

the moment.

blueberries on porridge is march
peaches in the sand is summer picnics
i go back to
landscapes of scents i forgot i owned

maybe i want to bottle these up 

and make perfumes.
i'd watch people smell them, i'd
notice the flare of their nostrils.

eager to know me.

i see you smelling my memory bottles
box fresh scents, exposed to you.
i hope you find something you like because
i will lend it to you, just as i am.

memories preserved.

there's a bee in the kitchen

i turn pages and my brain is just words
(my hands feel dirty, this book is dusty)
i have my feet up on the blue table
toes frying in the sun from the kitchen window
my mother would be angry but
maybe later i'll tell her a story from my book
it smells like clementines
(i had some earlier)
so i hope that's okay
(it's their season)

but then i hear the unmistakable sound
the infamous buzzing of a winged player
she's here to distract me from the pages
to make me turn my head away
cause a commotion

there's a bee in the kitchen

i was running in the forest and
i fell down

i saw dirt, pebbles and a small acorn
i saw my sleeve with a small blue button
i saw a hair pin covered in dirt

and then my palms began to burn
and underneath my chin i could feel
small rocks digging their way in

then i got up and pressed my palms together
closed my eyes and started running again
faster this time

books

i mull over words, i think them over and over again; their placement, their tone, their lateness in reaching me.

i speak on words, i project my own meekness onto the words i hear. i tend to be a great listener, please always know i never want to interrupt. i pride myself in selflessness, let it wash over it until i'm in a liquid state.