goodbye eleven

i always get a little melancholic on the last day of the year.
it’s a bit sad to end it, but it’s exciting to welcome the next one.
i feel as though they’re getting better and although the last two
years of my life have been the best, they’ve also been the worst
in terms of death and heartache.
but i wouldn’t trade my life for any another. i feel really grateful that i’ve
experienced the amazing things i have, met the most incredible people
in the last couple of years. they all mean so much to me.
i love my life, i love all of the good and the bad.
i love feeling it all.

goodbye 2011, you were unbelievable.

new year's eve

be sexy tonight.
get kissed. maybe even get laid.
get wild, you beautiful thing.

eff you, laguardia!

put up some effing signs,
you shouldn't be so damn hard to find!

“Never allow someone to be your priority while allowing yourself to be their option.”
— Mark Twain

some things,

some people,
some scenarios,
could not have been saved.

it's one of those nights

where i want to stay up and up

so that i can write and read

and think and remember

to forget.

trying to savor every last bite of

brooklyn

of the east coast and its seasons.

its history. its paint and parks.

it's one of those nights where in my head,

even as my eyelids begin to get

heavy,

i'm fighting for kind sleep

these days

these days
after the summer has turned itself into fall
and the wind bites, even alongside the sun,
i take day sleep with the window wide open.
it does well to warm my skin and bone marrow
under blankets thickened with feathers,
when i’ve not done well with forgetting.

and these days
i walk with my hands deep inside my pockets
seeking the touch of the lining
as if they were the goosebumps
last week’s skin.

the temperature is dropping,
the sky darkens much earlier than before.
but if i wrap that hand-knitted scarf
around my neck, over and over
and over again as it was intended,
it and all of it will keep me from getting too cold.