UNTITLED ❋ Mary Moore Dalton
i’m gonna dress like a mean toddler
its night time again
i can hear my little sister in the next room whispering “hi siri” in her sweet little voice
maybe if i stop regarding myself as a disaster something different will happen
my sister is saying “who am i” to siri in an increasingly frustrated/pleading voice
a memory of an afternoon spent sitting on a carpet with other children, listening to a recording of georgia o’keefe talking
two things that surprised me about adulthood are your pinky toenail gets super small and your uncles and aunts literally stop loving u
no one is more alone in the dolce vita than me
asleep and dreaming of being deliriously happy in chicago while in an ice covered elevator plummeting to the ground
sometimes i actually feel like consecutive texts i send didn’t even come from me. like a swamp suddenly rose to my neck.
resting in a dead man’s float in the river 20 feet away from someone i vaguely think i matched with on tinder sometime in the past 4 years
i tell you i don’t like having deeply held beliefs and you ask me why
a game i used to play with dad called “kenneth” where he was my little brother and his name was kenneth. and i was cooler/better than him.
I’m screaming into a polluted but beautiful manmade lake
I’m screaming IM NOT GOING TO BE SCARED ANYMORE
i want to hurdle through a wind tunnel of kisses. as punishment.
im in a beautiful hell of myself
this morning i said to my mom “i had a dream that god told me im an asshole” and she just put up her hand and said “im on my email”
every day we drift further from god’s light
my old sat tutor saw me buying a fidget spinner wearing a shirt with “fuck” poorly embroidered onto it
with a badly swollen tear duct
does anyone ever actually do primal scream therapy. i feel like it would help me.
i want my whole life to feel like standing in the splash zone
i am driving home from high school & i pull over, take off all my clothes, & keep driving, i think as a result of some intense emotion