Ode to Joy (Tinder)
2019
Of all the apps I wish to delete
I keep coming back to feel complete
You make me feel like I’m
in control
Even though you take a toll
on my mental health
I can’t believe
I’m people shopping
to feel relieved.
At one glance, I decide your fate
You’re not allowed to take me
on a date
Even though I’m so lonely
I want my heart to s k i p a beat
Don’t ghost me please, don’twastemytime
I hope my boyfriend doesn’t mind.
TTYL
2019
Your love language is tagging me in memes
but the accounts are always privated.
You could screenshot them and send them again, but I know you won’t.
So I just say, “haha”
My love language is sticking around -
But patience isn’t exciting, and neither am I(anymore).
So I sit here as the leaves turn, as my finger swipes away the imposters of you.
I don’t love you because I expect it in return.
Our love is not a transaction.
It is a fluid ocean:
polluted by miles and ego, timing and fear.
It is a garden:
but our thumbs are blue now.
And what is a dead plant if not a skeleton of a ghost? A souvenir from given up dreams?
I don’t know, but I desperately want “you”,
and that’s exciting to “me”.
But I’m so tired.
I’m so so tired.
please call me back
Things I need you to know:
2019
In the past year I found out the Wu-Tang clan isn’t a Chinese gang that also makes music.
I hate it when my bangs separate.
One time I paid someone to cast a love spell on me and my boyfriend, and the next day he broke up with me.
White claws are the juuls of spiked seltzer
Broccoli raab tastes like me trying to justify paying my school tuition
sauerkraut is white people kimchi
&
semen = baby gravy
My kink is when everyone else also fails 😍
Sin is a means of social control.
Broccoli
Olive oil
Salt
Garlic
Squeeze of lemon
2019
Scars you’ve been gifted
by the pavement of our city
are twins with the scars on my neck
A tight hand hold, you pull me close,
you watch my every step
8,651 miles
But I can still feel your stare
Missed Facetime calls
Twinkling red lights
And the bleach still in my hair
The incense you bought me
from the museum of sex
smells of lavender when I’m
ignoring your texts
Screenshots from instagram
you demand I explain
I can’t breathe anymore,
but yet I remain.