Posts
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when i am asked what i am grateful for
i always feel pressured into
being grateful for the biggest things i can
which to me always sounds like i'm shouting for forgiveness
instead of gratitude. i never get to say i'm grateful
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8:46
there are all the things I could do with three minutes alone in my room
I have an essay to write and Hebrew to study
I have things to look up and notifications to check
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oh god how is november almost over
on november first we said
ohgodit'snovemberalreadywheredidallthetimego taking
up all the time in the world with our breath.
on november fifth we said
ohgodpleaseprotectushavemercyonoursins praying
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November 6th
This morning I woke up at six am. The country was bleeding pomegranate red and I, so sure we'd be drinking in a giddy paradise blue, stared blankly for minutes if not hours at the flashing computer screen.
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the definition of election day:
sitting in bed close to 7 am waiting for the election tracker to light up.
sitting in bed close to 8 am doomscrolling through election websites knowing it's all futile now.
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cold realizations at 7:46 am on election day
no matter what we pray,
no matter what we cry,
no matter what the news anchors deadpan
away,
no matter what the truth is,
no matter the color of the sky,
no matter the eleven years i've waited
Loves
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Thermometers and Laughter and Showing Up
The days I wake up
and fall asleep
and move through the world
tired and clumsy,
it is hard to know the truths
of what I am grateful for.
Those days,
I am grateful not for winter,
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after the fifth day of november
note: partially inspired by Mary Oliver's "Wild Geese"
and for my mom
i want you to sit and stare at the glistening horizon.
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Mundane
a lesbian couple on my bus home from school
a man in a punk battle jacket on the street
my mother's female CEO group chat blowing up
four of my teachers taking the following day off
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grin & bear it
i wonder how many times he’s said i love you.//
i wonder how many flowers he’s gifted//, how many
slow dances he’s danced, the ratio between//
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Today
Today I've walked around school in a haze
I don't know what to do
How to feel
I don't understand
How he won again
I don't think I want to understand
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Eyes
the leaves are turning the color of your eyes again
as they fall to the ground i take care not to step on them
break their fragile spines, crack their delicate skin