Life Ends At Twenty Four

A collection of musings that started with an attempted novel and ended with sporadic bouts of inspiration.


I Walk Around in Circles

There's something about sitting in the quiet, white room, staring at the locked door, aware of all the pills piled up on the rack behind me.


i knew it was fear of realizing that i am more alive there than out here with you alone not dancing not twisting and raising my hands in joy
Story of the week

Tony Was a Friend of Mine

Tony's breaths would come in short, loud gasps whenever he touched my spine. He said the woman's back is the most delicate, sensual part of her body, and I arched back in agreement.


I got up Angry which is hard to do when you're naked and all he did was reach out and touch the skin behind my knee and I collapsed like a folding chair back into his arms

Wasted (More of Men)

this joy of life that radiates with every twist of my hands every curve of my hips is wasted and worth many more men much more of men than you

Your Skin

I know what kind of an effect I have on you

Weak Point

You are still the light I swim towards even when I tire and long for escape

Envy of the Carefree

Your eyes wander when I talk and I know I understand you're remembering the cold wind in your hair the brutal, barren desert
Gold cherry

The Little Pill

These long months of building buildings in the air, based on your beautiful hazel eyes, the scars of stories along your chin, how you pull me into your arms and once again I am home.

Here with Me

I have lived a thousand nights My head crammed with Polaroids Heads flung back in laughter Fingers crawling towards the night sky I have given and loved and laughed