I’m in the elevator,
contemplating the extensions which are about to grow
already missing social cues
oh my god it’s cold outside fight now skr skr lover faster “move faster” my lover is slow rolling in louisiana with his girl caSSie not far from HIS SIDE i am in atlanta head banging tempo metal
I mean no shade, Cassie is my sister. Though naturally I am envious of her innocence, despite being stripped of worry for the future and promised safety from trauma, is exactly what I would want for my daughter. Envy, no, not envy. Evolving.
i could’ve been a normal person instead im wearing a hat and sunglasses
i have to beCoMe everything that i hate
someone talking to me, but I have music blasting in my headphones.
rhinestone eyes
some things are just hard to say. like that you two are perfect for each other.
shaky knees was elite. we all joined over the music. THE GUY IN THE ELEVATOR TRIED TO POINT OUT MY SHAKY KNEES HAT, BUT I COULDN’T HEAR HIM BECAUSE I HAD HEADPHONES IN. FLUSTERED, I TOOK OUT A HEADPHONE AND SAID THANK YOU. HE POINTED AGAIN AT MY HAT AND SAID DID YOU GET THAT AT SHAKY KNEES. I SAID YA, I WAS THERE. THANKS.
I Smiled and waved as he exited. I rode down 11 floors in silence, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, head down, avoiding eye contact with the brown-haired resident who witnessed my overconfidence transition to instant shame.
Why do I speak like that? Like I am somebody that’s famous. Famous is a funny word. Known and recognized by many spirits! Hallelujah.
Hard times don’t have to look hard. That’s a myth. Love is the answer.
I get up to take a napkin from the counter of Three Peaches, a boutique health foods coffee shop in midtown.
It hurts me how joked out my friends are when I’m not around. I want to be the father who gives. There’s another like me; he’s in the shadows, completely hidden, though totally real.
“Do you have change for 100?” I ask the cashier. Staring down at the total, $3.49, I realized how silly a question it was. My Louis Vuitton 80s brief is staring at me, leather handles like two tongues weathering worries from us, secrets untold stories begs the question of who owned this briefcase, a memory winds back, suddenly, I am on the corner of 10th and Monroe at the Beltline intersection by the stones, still away from the path, passing off my untouched emerald matcha to an encamped man holding a staff. He thanked me and promised to widdle me one.
Later that day, I was at shaky knees, my plump peach-colored shins struggling to shake, an unusual occurrence–no unusual suspect–what a weird way to describe why I dance. In the dark red LED, tequila reposado breathing fire on my breath. Blunt smoke on my lungs. Now, this is the part I can’t publish, since I’m technically on a leave of absence from a large corporation.
Catcher in the Rye, the stolen Salinger library book, and a Revlon Matte ColorStay liquid lipstick occupy the open pouch
I live in a storybook and wonder if other people feel the same way about their lives, though I doubt it because I have tested my theory, which has only resulted in failure, yet a funny experience for future fairytales!
Goodnight,
Rosie
P.S., . . . . . . .
My story: I am a writer! I took many Ls, lost a best friend, loved three men til the end, except each of them was wrong. Until…Mr. Right.
I currently work for [redacted] and graduated from Emory with a business degree, though essay writing has always been my specialty! I have a passion for film and fashion.
My favorite movies are honestly Lady Bird, 10 Things I Hate About You, and Clueless.
Honorable mentions: Easy A, Easy Rider, Casablanca.
Shoutout to my uncle. I miss you and I WILL BE IN TEXAS SOON TO SEE YOU, PARTNER!
I lose myself in tunnels of geography, meaning I get into trouble just by walking.
Cassie is a girl.
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