darkness flowed into my hands
2020-06-05, 1:14 a.m.

two nights ago the lightning lit up the sky incessantly like pulse, and the thunder sounded like fireworks. the rain fell in waves across the street, and hail came down in the center of the storm. i called my mom to tell her it might be the rapture. today the tiny tea roses are sprouting every where and i wait for their cascade to frame my view from the french doors. I don't mind the dandelion roots. I will eat them later.

i can't concentrate because i'm exhausted and in pain. but i need to write my dissertation. i wish i hadn't put on so much eyeliner to write a paper about neurobiology. i need micellar water.

i think i will nap til 3 am and write during the witching hour. here's to hoping i finish even one sentence at that time.

sometimes when i see him with his fiance and his happy life i smile because he only came to me with his darkness. And i clasped my hands around it entirely, allowed myself to be drowned. A love like that, just erased, something that felt destined, something i had precognitive dreams about a decade before it happened. And gone as easily as it flowed into my hands. It only took four years to stop crying. I don't feel sad about him because I know we work out our darkness with people we discard and choose lightness for the final partner. it has never felt authentic how men do this so easily