“our hearts are wild creatures. that’s why our ribs are cages” she mutters as she pours the end of her lagavulin bottle on the pile of furs and jewels on her living room floor, with that look on her face like mistakes are just nature’s thrill seekers.
she’s an old soul in an old body. she’s had more than most people ever will. she’s lived beyond the point of giving a fuck, because giving a fuck requires explaining your past to your present.
and that theme has resurrected her old habits.
it’s been 8 days since she left the house, 4 days since she had solid food, and 22 hours until she would fall into a lasting coma beside her fur on the living room floor.
she finally takes a seat next to me, letting her fragile body sink into a love seat that costs more than my chevy parked in her ten-car driveway.
“when i was 8 i broke three ribs” she takes a slow drag of her hand-rolled cigarette, “when they woke me up on the hospital bed asking how it happened, i broke out laughing”
smoke comes out of her mouth and dances away from her lips in the shape of poorly-drawn circles, and for the first time during my 3 hour visit to her home, she looks up at me,
“i found it funny that the doctors didn’t realize how wild a heart can be.”
“DRUGS” CREW NECK SWEATER by Batoko
Photos by Cachet
i’ve been longing for your arrival. it’s a little past 3am and you said you’ll be here by tomorrow. i know i’m a little anxious but the scratches on my neck are getting a little too itchy and i need a distraction.
so to kill time i make my way down the spiral staircase and out the back door. i stroll down the alley and stand under my favorite streetlight. i like standing under streetlights because the buzzing of the flies is a calming rhythm to me. it reminds me that they too want to be warm and surrounded.
from this haven i wonder what you’re doing. maybe putting on your favorite lipstick that matches the dark plum sweater you wore that night we both decided no one else matters. or maybe you’re standing directly in front of the headlights of an old lady’s BMW moments before she forgets to hit the brakes. like that night you were rushing to get to the train station. but instead you were left under a streetlight. just past 3am. surrounded by flies buzzing to the rhythm of this calm, breathless moment.
i’m not sure when you’re arriving, and i’m not sure why i repeat this routine every night. maybe i’m learning from this. maybe it’s true what they say:
“that reality is never what i imagine it to be from the safe haven of introspection.”
SHOES by Jeffrey Campbell
JACKET by UNIF
SKIRT by Forever21
Photos by Rachel Lynch
there’s a vessel in your heart that’s screaming louder than the rest. it’s the attention-craving kind; the type that won’t let the world overlook.
but there lies a corner in your spirit that won’t compromise.
so you tiptoe away and hide in a hollow moment by yourself. screams lost in shadows. sounds cancel each other out.
frozen crystals tumbling down your naked spine.
TOP by Unif
Photos by Rachel Lynch
she’s a lone sinister
dancing in the blur
the way a slight breeze creeps through hollows
shifting through alleys to the rhythm of its sorrows
“she’s morphine, queen of my vaccine.”
T-SHIRT DRESS by Truly Madly Deeply
GARTERS & THIGH HIGHS by American Apparel
photos by Rachel Lynch (I HATE BLONDE)
i had a dream that i forgave you
and it went something like this:
in the depth of the chaos we both worked so hard to create
in the midst of a reality we both worked so hard to push away
did you think
for one second
that perhaps love
is a thing we can share
not just to pull in for control
and push away for comfort
but just to keep close
and not just in a dream
but in reality
and in my reality
it goes something like this:
i forgive you
DEATH MEOWTAL TOP by Unif
SUNGLASSES by Unif
THIGH HIGHS by American Apparel
TOOTH NECKLACE by Grand Bizzare