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loveletterstosappho

United States

writer of stories, lover of girls

Published Work

nuclear fusion


and she is so close i can see the clumps of mascara on individual lashes, long and thin, and i have not seen her in so long it feels a little bit like falling in love with a stranger, except maybe i have loved this stranger since the beginning of time, since the creation of the universe, since gravity and supernovas and space dust, since hydrogen and helium burning burning burning and the birth of earth's oceans, since my first breath of salty air; inhale sodium chloride, exhale into her hair--bleached blonde again, though it was once peach and before that rose gold and before that purple and before that red and before that green and i think she has gone through all the colors of the rainbow so it would be pointless to list them all and i think red is my favorite color on her because it reminds me of fire, of how easily i could burn on...

Flash Fiction Competition 2019

skinny-dipping


    You haven't gone swimming since the diagnosis, and maybe you shouldn't, but you feel so alive teetering on the lake's edge where a breeze traces the lines of your limbs and cold water laps at your toes. Above you, cicadas sing so eagerly you're sure they're celebrating your shared freedom, their tiny bodies pulsing. The lake reflects hazy, blurred constellations; you can already anticipate your body slicing through Ursa Major and breaking into the cosmos, thrill and stardust soaking your hair—cold, invigorating. You shiver, phantom water droplets dripping down your thin skin. Enough waiting, you decide. 
    You jump. 

Flash Fiction Competition 2019

skinny-dipping


    You haven't gone swimming since the diagnosis, and maybe you shouldn't, but you feel so alive teetering on the lake's edge, where a breeze traces the lines of your limbs and cold water laps at your toes. A shriek catches itself on your tongue, tasting of glee and exhilaration and freedom. The lake's surface reflects blurry constellations and you are already anticipating your body slicing through Ursa Major and sending thrills rippling through you; cold, invigorating. The thought alone makes you shiver, as though phantom water droplets are dripping down your thin skin. Enough waiting, you decide. 
    You jump. 

savior complex

you have long buried yourself
in a grave of misery and
deflated volleyballs
scattered venus flytraps
around your splintered coffin
i swear i will sand away
every imperfection and
save you. 

you water your plants with
salty tears and feed them bits
of my heart and i
let myself be bitten at
only because it gets me closer
to you. 
i hope that maybe if i save you
you can save me, too. 

you slice your skin against wood
collecting splinters like Cupid's arrows
and i pray to every god above that
one of them is for me but still,
i am far from you
clawing through graveyard dirt and misery and
deflated volleyballs
venus flytraps eating away at
muddy flesh

you beckon for me and 
weep into my hair, dry your tears on my skin
water me like you have watered your plants which
have left me raw and split open.
in your arms i melt and seep into decaying wood, ...

there is no destroying a goddess #bigcolor

     Nerida wraps her hands around my neck and kisses me hard. Her grip feels like a collar and her green curls tangled around my limbs feel like chains, but her tongue down my throat feels like freedom. She is, without a doubt, the greatest compilation of paradoxes to ever exist. Green-haired and green-eyed and yet the least jealous person I know; claims she loves the color because it represents fresh starts but if you ask me, it's endings she likes the most.
     When we first met, she swore I was beautiful enough to make her settle down, but all I seem to do now is make her mad when I ask her where the hell she's been after she knocks on our apartment door at 4:00 am, lipstick smudged and wearing perfume that's neither mine nor hers. 
     Acrylic nails dig into the back of my neck to bring me back to the real world,...

there is no destroying a goddess #bigcolor

     Nerida wraps her hands around my neck and kisses me hard. Her grip feels like a collar and her green curls tangled around my limbs feel like chains, but her tongue down my throat feels like freedom. She is, without a doubt, the greatest compilation of paradoxes to ever exist. Green-haired and green-eyed and yet the least jealous person I know; claims she loves the color because it represents fresh starts but if you ask me, it's endings she likes the most.
     When we first met, she swore I was beautiful enough to make her settle down, but all I seem to do now is make her mad when I ask her where the hell she's been after she knocks on our apartment door at 4:00 am, lipstick smudged and wearing perfume that's neither mine nor hers. 
     Acrylic nails dig into the back of my neck to bring me back to the real world,...

carbon monoxide

for you,
i would have lit the world ablaze
but the oceans were too vast
and my matches too weak.

i lit myself ablaze instead. 

i nailed boards to every window within me,
closed off all the grates,
slammed shut every door, 
and turned on the flame of each stove. 

i opened the valves of every gas flame,
blasted my heating as high as it could go and then some,
started my car engine only to let it run in my gut. 

i doused myself in gasoline,
stacked charcoal among self-hatred,
struck a match along your spine,
and set alight a bonfire in my heart. 

from the fire seeped your presence,
silent killer whom i adored. 
carbon monoxide.
colorless, odorless, tasteless,
and yet so beloved to me
that i willingly lit myself ablaze
just to feel your warmth curling around me. 

to feel your poison in my veins,
binding tight to the hemoglobin of my blood,
stealing away my oxygen. 
...

maybe we're a little more than just friends

'cause there's a tinge of sincerity
in the way your fingertips trace my throat
and the sound of my voice when i call you babe
so maybe we're a little more than just friends
a natural disaster biding its time--
a little more than just friends
but a lot less than anything else.

2019

a simple recipe for 2019

2 cups of hope
1 cup of chopped chocolate (85% cacao) 
23360 fl. oz. of water
3 cups of tears
1 miracle
1 incredible friend who needs to heal
2 tbsps. of confidence
1 pretty girl
10 dramatic makeup looks
3 photoshoots with friends
1/2 cups of good luck
10 scoops of creativity
1 pot of ink
365 fresh pages
cuddles
a sprinkle of recklessness
a dash of stardust

preheat the oven to 365 °F. split the 23360 fl. oz. of water into 365 containers of 64 fl. oz. each. in a microwaveable bowl, combine hope, chopped chocolate, and tears. heat in the microwave until the chocolate has melted, stirring between 1-minute intervals at high power. split the miracle into fourths, adding 3/4 of a miracle to your incredible friend who needs to heal. mix well, then add 1/4 cups of good luck. gently fold approximately half of the chocolate-hope-tears combination into the mixture with your incredible friend, being sure to...

A Pair of Poems

yellow

don't call me yellow, for i am so much more. i am gold. my skin gleams, precious metal in moonlight (the moon is the home of chang'e, so it makes sense for her light to shine upon me so favorably). my body is formed from the silky amber silt of the earth, shaped by the skilled hands of the mother goddess, snake goddess, nüwa herself. the blood of the jade emperor runs wild and free through my veins. coursing like the rapids of the huang he. my eyes are charcoal dark, set alight by sparks of stardust drifting through the universe, incandescent flames flickering at my lips, burning bright in my throat. they lend power to my voice, put passion into each and every one of my words. i am supported by a spine of steel, every single bone a railroad strong enough to carry the brilliance and weight of my trains of thought. the iron in my blood has been shed to build train-tracks across america. it binds me to this land...

Mixtape

for living and for loving

the good side by troye sivan, because i've got the good side of things. because i've been the one to cast aside relationships the way a prisoner would cast aside chains, not the one left picking up pieces of their heart. because i am sorry it was so much easier for me. because i've never broken up with someone for someone else, no matter how it may have looked. 

damn by livvia, because one day, i won't be the one who escapes the breakup unscathed. one day, we will both be trainwrecks, hurting like hell. because i am enough of a trainwreck on my own, and it's unfair of me to keep making commitments i know i can't keep. because one day, those commitments will blow up in my face and we will both be the ones picking up pieces of our hearts. 

she by dodie, because i cried so hard when i first heard this song. because it was a sign that it is okay to be a girl who...

Everyday Magic

Goddesses

There have always been women in the sky. Clouds have always held the soft curves so many Earth-women possess. Lightning bolts are the sharp-edged ones, not quite so soft, not quite so curved, yet beautiful still. The moon, of course, is a woman. The only question is which one: sweet Selene, illuminating the Earth and driving the moon across the heavens, swift and elegant as a chariot; Coyolxāuhqui of Aztec, whose head was thrown to the sky after her brother killed her, so that her father could find comfort in knowing she was always watching from above; Hina, both Dark and Fair, so powerful her emotions shift the phases of the moon; Chang'e, an empress with a tiger for a husband, swallowing immortality to save the Earth from him. 
     It used to be easier to see them, to look up and trace all of their feminine forms. It used to be easier to look up. It used to be...