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Awkward Girl: Day 4 (Part 3)

PART 3: Headlights

Awkward Girl:

It is maddening.  Why now? After all the emotional outpouring.  Why is now the time he’s come to collect the sex? He’s smooth…slick as an oiled railing. Now is the moment he chooses to ignore our awkward behavior and immaturity? We are in an endless cycle of us reacting to each other’s reactions and trying to then process how to react to that.  If this is what he needs in order to cope with the gravity of our connection, then sure, I’ll buy in. Not that it’s ever been just fucking, and we both know that. But he works so hard to deny the connection, and to be honest, I let him. Because, after all, I’m horny. I have needs. And before any judgment is passed, I am not using him. This neediness and craving is not just for anyone, but for his particular brand of tortured love. I need him; a heady thirst.

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Awkward Girl: Day 4 (Supermarket)

PART 2: Supermarket

Awkward Girl:

I struggle with tasks that I must participate in, in order to function as a respected adult, that is. I know, I know…we all feel that way when stress and the atrophy of time plagues us. I know I am not alone in feeling like I cannot keep up with the errands and appointments or making sure the smoke detectors have new batteries so that the ear-splitting, incessant beeping doesn’t push me to completely lose it in the middle of the night. But you see, with me…it is beyond a 9-volt or managing to get to the dentist twice a year.

For instance…

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Awkward Girl: Day 4

.

Introduction

Dating is hard.

Finding someone that is just the same shade of broken as me, or at least accepts the quirky things that make me, me, is (Can you guess?) awkward. It’s like an intricate social experiment where I am trying to, at the very least, survive the undertow. At the most? Find a human I connect with and can actually tolerate beyond a couple of months. A human who will eventually know all of me, weaknesses exalted, and who still wants to grab me and hold me despite of it all.

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Awkward Girl: Day 3

Day 3: A Nemesis (or two)

I feel the brick wall behind me and the mist on my nose, my backpack a haphazard heap, doubling as an extra limb. As I attempt an elusive vibe, like I belong, I think of all in life that weighs me down. How, sometimes, even The Day says, “Nah. I’m good. You are going to have to work tirelessly in order to make it past noon.”

For instance… Continue reading Awkward Girl: Day 3

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Awkward Girl: Day 2

Ok. So, things are going well.

This is the thought I’m having tonight. This is going well. Only a few slightly awkward interactions crept into the evening thus far, so I’d say…winning. For instance, it begins with me contemplating whether to go in for the hug, a kiss on the cheek, or a peck on the lips. Being the fourth date, it is appropriately confusing. So what happens? Naturally, I do some combination of the three aforementioned options, and I end up, kind of, sort of kissing him on (in?) the ear. I KNOW that shit was loud. Right. In. His. Ear. Continue reading Awkward Girl: Day 2

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Awkward Girl: Day 1

Day 1 (Isn’t it always?):

Awkward girl. That’s me. Welcome to my world.

You know, the thing about life, is that it is confusing. It is excruciatingly complex. Why does no one tell us this when we are young? I often wonder about that. We all figure it out eventually. We grow up and think: What in the ever living fuck is happening? And yet, here we are, remaining baffled and, well…awkward. Someone please. Help me understand. Continue reading Awkward Girl: Day 1

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The Color of Goodbye

And just like that, my life
suddenly seems like
it is not my own.
Your almost-green eyes
stared through me from
a non-existent land,
a dimension I don’t have
the capabilities to reach.
Can I verbalize the color
of your goodbyes?
Is there a shade
to match my pain?
Does a hue of an
explanation exist?   Continue reading The Color of Goodbye

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Fictional.

Perhaps she let
fear hold her back.

Her head reeled with
thoughts like fractals,
an endless realm.
Things became difficult
and intense and made
her desire to sleep.

She knew there was
never an acceptable
reason to deny love,
but at the time it seemed
like an unattainable miracle
to be chosen.

She should have
drank deeply
to reveal
the exquisite
nature of things,
instead
she sank meekly
with silent
shadows of failure,
escaping parted lips,
a breath
coalesced
with ridiculous
fictional
longings.

 

 

______________________________

Photograph: Lanaya

@writing.for.the.calm

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Dazzle Me

I am a dark sea.
You are a dazzling light
that intensifies,
as morning is
on its way.
I bend my head
and ponder,
as a collection
of dizziness
passes me by.
Maybe I need
a slew of
your strength,
a savior–

and
you have
your hope
your determination,
the color of
blood red wine,
just on the
cusp of victory.

The answer was
always there
if I just
opened
my eyes
and looked.

 

_____________________________

Photograph: Lanaya

@writing.for.the.calm

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Writhing in the Dark

Maybe it is best
left as a mystery,
all the sacred things
you hold dear,
trapped inside
for you to breathe.

Even as you notice
the most sincere
principles of reality–
you condemn all the fake
that screams in your face,

and that knowledge may lead
to even more intricate puzzles,
fluttering down from
somewhere to nowhere,
like lazy words writhing
mystically in the dark.

 

______________________________

Original Photography

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Fleeting

She was constantly battling tainted thoughts
that were grotesque in the way that their goal
was always to destroy her, bring her down.
Could someone have the ability to see her calm?
To entice it? To think it was graceful and angelic?
She imagined it would be like spotting a rare butterfly
or catching a glimpse of how a waterfall glimmers on a
precise angle of the sun–fleeting, yet a moment to treasure.

_____________________________

Photography: Lanaya @writing.for.the.calm