The first day it feels like fall
I want to tell my secrets
recklessly until there is nothing
you don’t know that would make
your heart change years from now.
How foolish we are to believe
we might outlive this distance.
I don’t know names for things
in the prairie, where the expanse
of light and the hissing of tall stalks
make me move slowly,
like in another country before
I must share it with anyone.
In what do you believe?
In September’s slight motion
of particulars, in the weight of birds,
in lust, propulsion, maps
that lie. You should not have loved
me. Now: goldenrod, prairie-clover,
the ovate-leafed bluebell with its open
throat saying how did you expect
to feel? Colonies of prairie-smoke
and pods turning golden and papery,
the grassy plains iterating patience,
and things I cannot name.
Begin with apples reddening.
Begin with a woman touching
the cities in your feet. Hartford,
Anchorage, the Bronx. Did you ever
see yourself as more
than yourself? I walk into a part
of afternoon that deepens
inventing an endpoint
for sadness. Everyone is gone.
On the subject of deception,
where do you stand? There’s a chill
in the air and the flowers know,
the goddamned flowers, their loosed
color. Sometimes we are cruel
and we mean it. We author the house
with its threadbare linens, the false
miniatures of people saying look at me.
Will the landscape forgive you?
Is it yours to describe? What
is the sound inside your mouth?
I’m surrounded by grasslands
in every direction. The sound
is a clamoring, because desire
is never singular and we want it
this way. We want it easy.
I have already let go
of summer. Here, the wind—
dispersal of seeds and story. Love,
there are things I cannot name.
"He was being so rough to his body on the stage, it made me cringe."
back in the self destructive Oliver days. If you havent had a chance to read my old blogs, ya should! www.adamelmakias.com/blog
"she’s just playing hard to get"
have u ever considered that maybe she just isnt interested ???¿¿¿
If you’re battling a mental illness and didn’t want to wake up this morning but did anyways, you’re a motherfucking badass. Because living with a mental illness is hard and I’m damn proud of you for still being here and fighting. You’re metal as hell and tough as nails. So keep on fighting, you kickass Viking warrior. You can win this.
32 - Do you have a friend of the opposite sex you can talk to? Yeah. I befriend more guys than girls for some reason e.o