If I said what I have always wanted to say to you, what would I say? Why even bother? My words don’t exit fluidly; they slump against my throat as I force them out with care. The day drags on as time sprints back and forth. Three months have elapsed in an hour, and I still can’t put to words how I feel. I continue to mumble hollow gibberish until I reach a series of self-imposed questions. They are petty at times, no doubt, and the original recipient of each question has morphed into me. So what? My written word is only slightly nonsensical—not nonsensical enough to be interesting, but still noticeable in its nonsense and therefore irritating and without purpose. Who’s going to believe this caked story? I string together a slew of severed grievances, revisit them many times, cross them out, sift them, mix them, laugh at them, cry with them, hide them, then start over. The objects that I reference are bland and unexceptional: coffee creamer, business envelopes, face wash, mud. A few of them are more telling: faulty cassettes, cheap jewelry, missing keys, the Arabic word zift.[1]Literal translation: asphalt. Colloquially: shit. I decide to mechanize my labor for two reasons: (1) to build a relationship between thoughts that appear disparate and arbitrary; to demand a connection between my past memories and present emotions; to establish a web-like framework within and throughout the text; to allow the words to coexist physically and conceptually, and (2) to deal with the fact that I am not in control; to push and pull between acceptance and domination; to embrace the words that spit out; to sleep soundly; to place my trust outside of me.
“As we skirt along these memories, we clothe everything in the same quiet garb, and death looks like a backdrop whose colors have faded. We turn back into ourselves. We feel our distress and like ourselves the better for it. Yes, perhaps that’s what happiness is, the self-pitying awareness of our unhappiness.”[2]Albert Camus, “Between Yes and No,” The Wrong Side and the Right Side.
Can we talk, mostly to keep it together? I am, by your loss, begging to glue back the broken seams. I don’t mean to, but I think I know a set of words, more delicate words tomorrow. I want to be the one who keeps it together mostly, back then and today. But I’d like to see it all in the folks who sat beside me.
I wanted to gain the zifts, still fuming with wavy mirrors, or a sweater that’s coated in mud. I’d rather fail friends who were shallow and sheer and solid gray figures, but my mind wears me. I wanted to eat the mistake of being in your universe. I wanted to be Tylenol for kicks, hiding beneath the couch cushions and evaporating in due time. I made it all.[3]I’d rather experience it all than cope with what’s left of me. (4)
Let’s regroup and refresh, for me. Slow and somber, and sweet and kind, because the silence might be worse. Are you awake?
I am sometimes offered the guts to make my words young in my early years. My words are specific, silently humming and woo-y and blue. I try my best to smile, say “hello.” I’d rather remain adhesive and slightly stretchy, like pale birds of pained wisdom on sugar-free acid. You weren’t joking about how they got here. But the truth is, I’d rather be powdered fake milk than cope with my expectations. I’d rather want yesterday or last week to be hot and sour two weeks ago. Silly, I know.
I keep thinking around your standards. I’d prefer to remain at your beck and call, but the truth is, I don’t want to see the specifics that only I can comprehend. I want to put yesterday or last week near the end of each week. I want to be for me. I want to be where I am, where these words stiffen and smirk to your old cassettes. I’d rather remain before the fog settles in. I’d rather dream with a curt smile, but have been assured, like the walls around us, that it is time to leave me be.
I want to eat the one who attends to and aches for intestinal damage.[4]Original shuffle: I wanted to eat (5a) the one who knows (3b) attending to and aching for (3c) and intestinal damage (2d). I want to be destined to live and breathe, but that likely makes little sense to you... I am a child and my mind waves when I look weird. But I find you everyday. I keep thinking back at me while I have not washed my face. I wish I had to be there back then and today and tomorrow, because I wanted to see your kind of good with knotted answers, standing aside a beaming shadow… Fresh and smooth.
I think I need the thoughts that run down my back to stop flinching an inch, gawam![5]Colloquial expression that means “move it!” or “get going!” My understanding of time is whispering, “I love you more,” and I apologize when I am home, sick. I love that we last danced like unsalted butter, believe it or not. I left my cake with the candles in the form of a question, and now I flex my new wings, who tinge with regret. I wanted to wield these words despite me thinking to myself, so what? Like the cough syrup that I feared, I wanted to be when you told me to be.
I’d rather live out the approval of your old cassettes. I’d rather fail, slow and somber, and then beg to glue together the broken seams and intestinal damage while evaporating in due time. I want to be the burnt dots on my face tonight. Remember when you were awakened by the ongoing fiction within? Was the distance doable?
You weren’t joking about why you are upset, but the silence might be worse. (The smacks,) I wanted to believe friends who were bold. I kept thinking about you from a length of space and time, thinking to myself, so what? But I wander around your standards, and if my evening lullaby informs to hide them at dawn, who covers these loose lashes tonight? I made attempts, if you are being sincere when you call and are draped in worn wool. I’ll bring and be sweet and kind, like the cough syrup that I feared or a sweater that’s coated in mud.
I am my body through sheer romance, free yet passive … hot and sour. My words are yesterday’s last week. They let me see me with a return ticket home. Was the day-to-day two weeks ago, if this means that? I made solid gray figures when greeted with new faces, and I am thinking of pulling it off while standing aside a beaming shadow.[6]I’m not sure how you pulled it off, back then and today. (2)
I’m not sure how you knew that I was capable of woo-y and blue while smirking on the slow walk back home. I want to be with the bricks, the never-ending state that bumps then nods. I want to make the mistake of being and wish I had friends who were shallow and sheer since I have not washed my face for our dinner guests. But as my actions turn to stone, I can’t recall your teeth shining in the universe of sugary spring water. I made your kind of power out of what was left of me, then ate the candles too and quickly walked away. I’d rather experience the guts to make my words fresh and smooth—the slits I probably need now or never.[7]Original shuffle: I’d rather experience (4a) the guts to make my words (4b) fresh and smooth (6c) the slits (4d) but probably needed (6e). I want to be here when I am home, sick, to cross fires and hold hands near the end of each week. I want to be destined to live and breathe on our kitchen countertop. I can finally hear the knotted answers, and I just want to be the one who knows.
I love going unnoticed by day where these words stiffen and smirk like the walls around us. I see and hear near salted wounds to jump, swim and move. (The brags,) I want to be prized when I remain sticky and I don’t have time to fetch like a stamp with newborn wings. I apologize for smiling from chin to cheek with Tylenol for kicks... Ya salaam,[8]Oh wow!; Really? for as long as I say.
Can we talk about being second to the one and only one, and knowing them by heart in a bare kitchen sink? I’d rather want but I think I know that you are still fuming from those two foreign words. I try to ignore the whispering of “I love you more” to my well-intended goals and my worth. I am thinking of the womb with limited guidance, young in my early years, and more delicate words tomorrow. I wanted to wield the thoughts that run down my back, like unsalted butter splish-splashing for hours. I’d rather remain that you put this kind of effort for me at least.
I wanted to see fractured and soft birds of paled wisdom that only I can comprehend and right of due wrongs. I wanted the specifics, which likely makes little sense to you. I wanted to brew the powdered fake milk, but I think I wear items that are sitting above our business envelopes. May be.
My decisions revolve around where I am, near the folks who sat beside a joint resolution. It seems like we were as gruesome as we were gray, looking for opportunities to leap and being in-between. I want to put down before the fog settles in, but have been assured that it has accumulated now. I think I need friends who are young, both as a concept and a construct, friends who make light of cracked tape and tell me, “You’re alright.” I am sometimes offered time to leave me be with wavy mirrors, but who can I trust indoors? How long has it been since you were omnipresent about my projected love life? I can’t tell at all who has, quote, been through a lot, but my mind wears me and shrinks beneath the touch.
I made these words despite everything in one room, in the form of a question who sweats blood and hides beneath the couch cushions. I wanted to eat and keep it mostly together. I wanted to mine my expectations, versus where I was and so on. Instead of tears, I was addressing with a curt smile, but not in real life, and never felt, and made only when convenient.
The truth is, I don’t want to be the girl who bows down, winning the world over to sugar-free acid. I’d rather dream my cake of candles than cope with your beck and call. And I have struggled with a few friends since then, my guise and the fashioner of faux forms. Let’s regroup and refresh if I look weird, but are you awake?
I made me in my own way. What I have done, that you weren’t okay. I’d rather live by your loss and the laughs in over a week. I left back while I respond, not flinching an inch when you told me to. I don’t mean it; my understanding of time is different since we last danced.
I want to be adhesive and slightly stretchy, lucking my way out of the indulgent arbiter’s asphalt. I can see who keeps it together mostly. I made for me back then and today. My mind waves to be there where the keys are, and I flex my new wings when they catch the fall.
I try my best to smile, say “hello”—a set of words that I attempt and know, silly. I’d like to see how they got here and mostly keep it together. I think, like the life that I could see, I want to be sharp and cross-eyed, silently humming the words that I made to be your kind of good, while adorned in plated earrings and dodging eye contact. I want to be then sleep, attending to and aching for regret, despite all of my despites.
It seems like we were the specifics in the form of a question. I want to be the ongoing fiction within and quickly walk away, then think to myself, so what? I want to stay put when I am home, sick. I apologize that I was capable of the folks who sat beside me.[9]Original shuffle: I apologize (8a) that I was capable of (5b) in the folks who sat beside (9c). Silly, I know.
I want to be about my projected love life, both as a concept and a construct. I flex my new wings of sugary spring water down on most days. I can’t recall you from a length of space and time. Was the day-to-day, the zift, still fuming while dodging eye contact?[10]I wanted to eat my cake with the candles, still fuming, then eat the candles, too. (5) I’d like to see who covers these loose lashes, making light of cracked tape then evaporating in due time. I made burnt dots on my face tonight, knowing them by heart like the cough syrup that I feared ... I made attempts, gruesome and gray, attending to my cake with the candles despite all of the despites. Let’s regroup and refresh by your loss.
What have I done? I wanted to wield me in my own way, let me see and smirk on the slow walk back home. I try to ignore where I am. Were you awake, I wish I had to be your kind of good of sheer romance, but you weren’t okay when convenient. I struggle with it all, fractured and soft birds of pale wisdom not flinching an inch if I look weird. I wanted to care, whispering, “I love you more” to the indulgent arbiter.
I try my best to sleep. I can finally hear a joint resolution but probably needed a return ticket home to be powdered fake milk. I wanted to want but I think I know how we got here: winning the world over and touch. I’d rather want with a curt smile, hot and sour, that only I can comprehend near salted wounds. I want to be the time to leave me be and beg me to glue back broken seams. I want to be Tylenol for kicks on our kitchen countertop. Though the silence might be worse and right of due wrongs.
I love like yesterday was last week. (The brags,) My mind waves and minds my expectations. I respond with knotted answers that “I want to be.” I keep thinking of your teeth shining and what’s left of me. I made prizes when I remain sticky and I don’t have time in a bare kitchen sink.
My decisions revolve around the second to the one and only one,[11]My decisions revolve around your standards, believe it or not. (9) but I think our dinner guests weren’t joking about the laughs. I want to be destined to live and breathe where these words stiffen and smirk, then eat the candles too. I want friends who are shallow and sheer at your beck and call, gawam! Both woo-y and blue and the fashioner of faux forms, they shrink beneath the sugar-free acid, and intestinal damage ... I see and hear them too, adhesive and slightly stretchy.
I want to be around your standards when you call, and so on. I can’t tell if you are being sincere—a set of words to hide at dawn for as long as I say. I am sometimes offered the mistake of being like unsalted butter two weeks ago. I want to be and then be. I think I’ll bring these words to you where the keys are.
I love despite the guts to make my words and you upset. I can see you every day under my guise, and I am thinking of a few friends while adorned in plated earrings. Who can I trust indoors? I’d rather live if it means that my understanding of time is my body, but I have been assured with wavy mirrors, to smile; say “hello.” My words mostly keep it together if my evening lullaby informs aside a beaming shadow. Can you talk back at me while smiling from chin to cheek? (The slits,) I left those two foreign words for me to cope with near the end of each week. I made it in your universe with bumps then nods. I was a child. I made the one who knows my well-intended goals splish-splashing for hours in a sweater that’s coated in mud. I wanted to see when you told me back then and today, like the walls around us instead of the tears.
I’d rather dream of the approval before the fog settles in. I’d rather remain the girl who bows down when greeted with new faces believe it or not, but my mind wears me and then catches the fall. I’m not sure how you look for opportunities to leap me of my worth, but you’re alright. I am silently humming the words as my actions turn to stone: friends who were young, I want to be there in over a week.
I am addressing the thoughts that run down my back versus where I was in this never-ending state. I want to be with the bricks, a stamp with newborn wings. I want it distracting and sweet and kind, and draped in worn wool that you fired. I attempt to eat and keep it together mostly.
The truth is, I don’t want to jump, swim and move, lucking my way out like the life that I could once see. How long have we been sharp and cross-eyed? Who makes love and hides beneath the couch cushions? Remember when you were awakened and then pulled it off? I made slow and somber friends who were bold. I am thinking of your kind of power like rain on a warm day. I wear, but I find and never feel more delicate words tomorrow. But not in real life. I don’t mean to put this kind of effort in my early years. (The smacks,) I think I need to go unnoticed by day in your old cassettes of being in-between.
I wanted to gain business envelopes with limited guidance. I’d rather be the one who keeps it mostly together,[12]I’d rather be than be. (7) to cross fires and hold hands, to sweat blood and tinge with regret. I wanted to believe items that were sitting above me since I have not washed my face. I’d rather experience everything in one room, free yet passive solid gray figures that have accumulated may be. I’d rather fail since we last danced fresh and smooth ya salaam.
My understanding of time is distracting that you fire and win the world over. I wanted to care but I think I know that I respond like a stamp with newborn wings and then evaporate in due time. I made attempts since we last danced, I wanted to be free yet passive on our kitchen countertop, may be.
I am addressing the mistake of being and quickly walk away despite all of my despites and tears. I’d rather experience a fractured and soft resolution with limited guidance, versus where I was near the end of each week. I’d rather fail at covering these loose lashes when I was home, sick, but probably needed it. Let’s regroup and refresh and keep it together mostly, because I have been assured that only I can comprehend it. I want to be you from a length of space and time that’s young in my early years. (The slits,) I think I need the zifts, solid gray figures, to want it … I wanted to see, unnoticed by day but still fuming with what’s left of me. I can’t recall me in my own way. Remember when you were awakened by the guts to make my words? I see and hear yesterday or last week in the form of a question, and the fashioner of faux forms when convenient. I want to be the indulgent arbiter who keeps it mostly together as I flex my new wings. I wear this kind of effort—joint and hot and sour.[13]... but my mind wears me down on most days. (8)
My words are the thoughts that run down my back. But I find everything in one room with your old cassettes, then eat the candles too. I want to be about where I am, knowing it by heart as my actions turn to stone. How long has it been back at me while we sweat blood under my guise? I am prizes when I remain sticky silently humming the words with a return ticket home, or a sweater that’s coated in mud. I wanted to smile, say “hello,” be sweet and kind to sugar-free acid while down most days. I wanted to know how they got here. My mind waves before the fog settles in to my well-intended goals but the silence might be worse. I wanted to gain to be there and luck my way out of your ya salaam.[14]While often used positively, ya salaam can also be delivered with sarcasm and reflect a lack of trust, similar to “Really?” in English. I don’t mean to be your kind of good, but not in real life of being in-between. I try to ignore your loss.
I’m not sure how you made cake with candles like unsalted butter and walls around us. I made a few friends since then to sheer romance, as I apologize to your teeth shining where the keys are, and make light of cracked tape, tell me. That likely made little sense to you two weeks ago. I’ll bring time to leave me be, clear salted wounds, be fresh and smooth, and think to myself, so what?
I love sharp and cross-eyed, I think. Splish-splashing for hours, I can’t. I’d rather dream when you tell me to laugh, but you aren’t okay and shrink beneath me. I want to be but never feel, not flinching an inch to make love. I want to believe burnt dots on my face tonight, who have, quote, been through a lot and drape me in worn wool. I struggle with your kind of power.
I want to be slow and somber, back then and today. I can see second to the one and only one while adorned in plated earrings. I made and slept in your universe. I made it all let me see as it has accumulated. Where did your mind go? Were you awake, the girl who bows down and I don’t have time to smirk on the slow walk back home. The truth is, I don’t want what I am capable of attending to and aching for and intestinal damage. I’d rather want my projected love life to call in over a week. I want to be the ongoing fiction within, to cross fires and hold hands like the cough syrup that I feared. Who can I trust indoors? Who tinges with regret? I’d rather live like friends who are bold. I want to put items that are sitting above a set of words to hide them at dawn. It’s alright. I want to be destined to live and breathe in the never-ending state while dodging eye contact and catching the fall.
I’d rather live like the life that I could see you every day. I keep thinking, if you are being sincere with the folks who sat beside us for as long as I say, well, I made Tylenol for kicks. I made greetings with new faces believe it or not—with knotted answers and sugary spring water. You weren’t joking; these words despise looking for opportunities to smack me of my worth.[15]I struggle with these words despite knowing them by heart. (2) I made me mine my expectations.
I attempt the approval of business envelopes, trying my best with a curt smile, and then cope with more delicate words tomorrow. I’d rather remain mostly kept together, pulling off the specifics. I want to be silly if I look weird, like rain on a warm day and wavy mirrors. I’d like to see the one who knows but I think and so on. Can we talk with the bricks? I am, I know.
I think of my body through the bumps then nods that made you omnipresent. I am sometimes offered smiles from chin to cheek. I left at your beck and call, gawam,[16]Gawam! is an expression that I couldn’t translate growing up, but I always knew what it meant. To this day, I automatically move when I hear or see the word. begging me to glue together broken seams. I made adhesive rights of due wrongs, hence why you are upset. And I wanted to eat powdered fake milk with what I have done but my mind wears me.
I wanted to wield friends who were young, or so I finally hear. It seems like we were thinking of you, if that means that. I made bare in a kitchen sink since I have not washed my face around your standards. Who stands aside a beaming shadow? My decisions revolve... woo-y, blue, gruesome, gray. I wish I had whispered, “I love you more,” then bragged to our dinner guests. Was the day-to-day to jump, swim, and move where these words stiffen and smirk between those two foreign words?
I made attempts to be your kind of good where the keys are. I want to be whispering, “I love you more,” to cross fires and hold hands like the cough syrup that I feared who stands aside a beaming shadow. I want to be the one who knows. I attempt to the guts to make my words still fuming. Who can I trust indoors?
I want to be the girl who bows down in your universe who sweats blood near salted wounds. My understanding of time is and powdered fake milk. I made adhesive and slightly stretchy young in my early years ya salaam. How long has it been it all solid gray figures? I flex my new wings and shrink beneath. I wanted than sleep attending to and aching for and smirk on the slow walk back home. I made second to the one and only one, a set of words to sugar-free acid. I am addressing free yet passive winning the world over. I can’t tell about my projected love life. Knowing them by heart not flinching an inch. I’d rather remain sharp and cross-eyed. I try to ignore for me. I want to be everything in one room, but have been assured and draped in worn wool who tinges with regret. Remember when you were awakened friends who were young where these words stiffen and smirk and intestinal damage? I wanted to gain to jump, swim and move and sweet and kind.
Were you awake you put this kind of effort. I want to the specifics, the brags, like a stamp with newborn wings when convenient. I wanted to care you from a length of space and time to your old cassettes while dodging eye contact you’re alright. Was the day-to-day when greeted with new faces that likely makes little sense to you? I am sometimes offered who keeps it mostly together, let me see as with wavy mirrors, of sugary spring water. I struggle with Tylenol for kicks. If my evening lullaby informs our dinner guests. Who catches the fall? I want to be mind my expectations. My decisions revolve time to leave me be and who covers these loose lashes the silence might be worse. I want to be with the bricks, in the folks who sat beside with a return ticket home. I made the womb with limited guidance, both as a concept and a construct two weeks ago. I made who keeps it together mostly.
I am thinking of than be begging me to glue together broken seams those two foreign words. I am your kind of power who has, quote, been through a lot. I wanted to believe unnoticed by day versus where I was of being in-between. Let’s regroup and refresh the ongoing fiction within of business envelopes in a bare kitchen sink as my actions turn to stone. I want to be the zifts, the laughs, more delicate words tomorrow. I’d rather experience when I was home, sick. The never-ending state me of my worth. I wanted to be there under my guise, and the fashioner of faux forms down most days. I think I need it distracting that you fire than cope with that you weren’t okay. The truth is, I don’t want by your loss when you call and hiding beneath the couch cushions. I wish I had if you are being sincere.
I wear my body through what I have done. I don’t mean to since we last danced like unsalted butter. I wanted to eat at your beck and call, gawam! who makes love. I was a child. I apologize friends who were shallow and sheer to my well-intended goals that have accumulated. I’ll bring the approval of and quickly walk away what’s left of me. I made prizes when I remain sticky and I don’t have time that only I can comprehend. I wanted to wield these words despite silently humming the words near the end of each week or a sweater that’s coated in mud. I made if I look weird to sheer romance, in over a week. Where did your mind go? I’d rather dream burnt dots on my face tonight. I love but never feel back then and today to hide them at dawn instead of tears. My words are my cake with the candles why you are upset then eat the candles too and right of due wrongs.
I’d rather want me in my own way. I love friends who were bold the indulgent arbiter with knotted answers and touch .You weren’t joking around your standards. I’d like to see before the fog settled in, in the form of a question like the life that I could see for as long as I say. I left you every day. I want to put items that are sitting above while adorned in plated earrings splish-splashing for hours then evaporating in due time.
I can see a few friends since then like rain on a warm day, the slits. My mind waves mostly keep it together. I respond, I’m not sure how you fractured and soft but I think thinking to myself, so what? I am thinking of to smile, say “hello.” I made destined to live and breathe.
I want to be your teeth shining and I can finally hear and so on. I’d rather fail but I think I know since I have not washed my face despite all of my despites. I keep thinking back at me while. I want to be slow and somber. I made if that means that fresh and smooth. Can we talk as gruesome as it was gray? Lucking my way out. I want to be how they got here believe it or not. I wanted to see pulled it off pale birds of pained wisdom like the walls around us but probably needed. But I find with a curt smile, looking for opportunities to leap who bumps then nods.
I’d rather live the mistake of being that you were omnipresent. I’d rather live that I was capable of. I see and hear yesterday or last week our kitchen countertop but my mind wears me the smacks. I try my best about where I am, but not in real life. I can’t recall when you told me, I think making light of cracked tape. Was the distance doable? It seems like we were the thoughts that run down my back smiling from chin to cheek of a joint resolution.
Let’s regroup and refresh my cake with the candles a set of words. I love friends who were bold silently humming the words with knotted answers who catches the fall. I wanted with a curt smile. I wanted to see the one who knows lucking my way out. Who can I trust indoors?
I try my best the mistake of being versus where I was to hide them at dawn, near salted wounds. I wear when you told me. I am thinking of before the fog settled in. I think ya salaam. I wanted to eat time to leave me be and still fuming with wavy mirrors, instead of tears. I’d rather live the womb with limited guidance, that you were omnipresent like a stamp with newborn wings. I want to be to jump, swim and move while adorned in plated earrings those two foreign words. I want to be adhesive and slightly stretchy winning the world over. I want to be Tylenol for kicks of business envelopes but my mind wears me. I want to at your beck and call, gawam! I love a few friends since then. I think I need fractured and soft who makes love and intestinal damage when convenient. You weren’t joking but never feel where these words stiffen and smirk and draped in worn wool. I keep thinking burnt dots on my face tonight, knowing them by heart.
I attempt to it all. I want to be unnoticed by day woo-y and blue that you weren’t okay then evaporating in due time. I wanted to believe the thoughts that run down my back our kitchen countertop and the fashioner of faux forms. Who stands aside a beaming shadow? I try to ignore than be under my guise. I can’t recall when I was home, sick. That likely makes little sense to you like the life that I could see of sugary spring water. I made to smile, say “hello,” let me see as while dodging eye contact down most days. My words are about my projected love life. I wish I had your teeth shining and who has, quote, been through a lot in over a week. I made mostly keep it together in the folks who sat beside thinking to myself, so what? I’d rather fail since we last danced I can finally hear in a bare kitchen sink. I am addressing with the bricks.
How long has it been if you are being sincere, like unsalted butter making light of cracked tape? I’d like to see the zifts, to my well-intended goals. It seems like we were the girl who bows down to cross fires and hold hands then eat the candles too. I am sometimes offered who keeps it together mostly, both as a concept and a construct and so on but probably needed. Were you awake it distracting that you fire solid gray figures more delicate words tomorrow. Was the day-to-day free yet passive than cope with our dinner guests. I’ll bring to be your kind of good pale birds of pained wisdom near the end of each week and right of due wrongs. I don’t mean to your kind of power the laughs, like the cough syrup that I feared. My understanding of time is everything in one room, and sweet and kind, I flex my new wings. I wanted to gain around your standards.
I’d rather remain me in my own way to sheer romance. The truth is, I don’t want mind my expectations, begging me to glue together broken seams. I can’t tell my body through why you are upset. Where did your mind go? I’m not sure how you items that are sitting above the never-ending state me of my worth. I want to be that I was capable of I respond and hiding beneath the couch cushions. I made attempts back at me while but I think like the walls around us. I wanted to care sharp and cross-eyed, since I have not washed my face of a joint resolution you’re alright. I’d rather experience these words despite to your old cassettes who bumps then nods. Was the distance doable? I am if I look weird. I want to be prizes when I remain sticky like rain on a warm day, who sweats blood for as long as I say. I made the ongoing fiction within what I have done that only I can comprehend and touch.
I wanted about where I am. I want to be you put this kind of effort if my evening lullaby informs the silence might be worse. The smacks, but I find and powdered fake milk. I made yesterday or last week the brags, splish-splashing for hours and shrink beneath. I want to be how they got here. I want to be you from a length of space and time and I don’t have time despite all of my despites as my actions turn to stone.
I made you every day who covers these loose lashes what’s left of me. I made second to the one and only one, the indulgent arbiter. I wanted to wield than sleep but not in real life and smirk on the slow walk back home. I apologize to be there. I want to be by your loss.
I made the specifics smiling from chin to cheek that have accumulated. Remember when you were awakened if that means that in the form of a question with a return ticket home? I struggle with friends who were young. My mind waves destined to live and breathe. I’d rather live when greeted with new faces when you call. I’d rather dream pulled it off in your universe. I left slow and somber but have been assured. I’d rather want who keeps it mostly together, young in my early years the slits, who tinges with regret. My decisions revolve friends who were shallow and sheer attending to and aching for to sugar-free acid.
I am thinking of the guts to make my words hot and sour. I can see but I think I know. I want to put for me and quickly walk away two weeks ago or a sweater that’s coated in mud. I see and hear as gruesome as it was gray fresh and smooth. I made whispering, “I love you more” back then and today not flinching an inch. I was a child. Can we talk the approval of where the keys are, of being in-between?
I wish I had items that are sitting above in your universe. I made who keeps it mostly together, looking for opportunities to leap like the walls around us instead of tears. I made the ongoing fiction within. Can we talk destined to live and breathe if my evening lullaby informs? Where did your mind go?
I left the womb with limited guidance, to sheer romance, ya salaam, you’re alright. I want to put the mistake of being. I want to be these words despite smiling from chin to cheek, but my mind wears me. I want to be pulled it off winning the world over and draped in worn wool then evaporating in due time. But I find slow and somber, why you are upset of a joint resolution. I want to be if you are being sincere, I respond like the cough syrup that I feared. Were you awake than be to your old cassettes. I want to be you put this kind of effort and sweet and kind, who bumps then nods. I am thinking of at your beck and call, gawam! I think I need the specifics. I made you from a length of space and time of business envelopes making light of cracked tape down most days. I wanted when I was home, sick. Pale birds of pained wisdom not flinching an inch. I apologize around your standards, like rain on a warm day.
Let’s regroup and refresh the thoughts that run down my back. I don’t mean to to be there that you were omnipresent the silence might be worse for as long as I say. I made with a curt smile, fresh and smooth with wavy mirrors, the smacks. Was the day-to-day friends who were young the laughs? The truth is, I don’t want the zifts, who makes love splish-splashing for hours or a sweater that’s coated in mud. I’d rather remain mind my expectations that likely makes little sense to you and the fashioner of faux forms and right of due wrongs. I wanted to wield yesterday or last week. I’ll bring second to the one and only one, but not in real life despite all of my despites. I attempt to if that means that attending to and aching for near the end of each week. I see and hear but never feel who has, quote, been through a lot. What’s left of me? My words are prizes when I remain sticky.
I try to ignore my body through silently humming the words to sugar-free acid. I want to be Tylenol for kicks where these words stiffen and smirk. I can’t tell it distracting that you fire still fuming that you weren’t okay. I struggle with your kind of power and I don’t have time that only I can comprehend who catches the fall. I can see you every day both as a concept and a construct then eat the candles too. I am addressing back at me while under my guise, to hide them at dawn. I am the guts to make my words to cross fires and hold hands in a bare kitchen sink and touch. I’d rather live to be your kind of good while adorned in plated earrings two weeks ago. You weren’t joking as gruesome as it was gray, I think that have accumulated. I want to be fractured and soft.
It seems like we were than sleep than cope with. I wanted to eat since we last danced believe it or not. I want to be the approval of like unsalted butter. Silly, I know. I made sharp and cross-eyed, the never-ending state while dodging eye contact. I made it all a set of words more delicate words tomorrow. I wear everything in one room, woo-y and blue thinking to myself, so what? I’d rather want that I was capable of where the keys are, and intestinal damage who tinges with regret. I’d rather fail and powdered fake milk since I have not washed my face and smirk on the slow walk back home. I was a child. I made friends who were bold. My mind waves free yet passive what I have done with knotted answers of sugary spring water. I wanted to believe time to leave me be and the indulgent arbiter like a stamp with newborn wings and shrink beneath.
I can’t recall your teeth shining and. My understanding of time is my cake with the candles back then and today those two foreign words as my actions turn to stone. I am thinking of with the bricks. I’d rather experience to jump, swim and move. I can finally hear with a return ticket home but probably needed. I keep thinking but I think I know. I am sometimes offered about my projected love life in the form of a question like the life that I could see who stands aside a beaming shadow.
I want to be by your loss hot and sour, I flex my new wings. I want to be burnt dots on my face tonight, the brags. I wanted to care to smile, say “hello,” our kitchen countertop the slits. How long has it been for me? I love before the fog settled in?
My decisions revolve whispering, “I love you more.” Who covers these loose lashes our dinner guests? I’d rather live who keeps it together mostly, knowing them by heart and so on. I’d like to see when greeted with new faces. I wanted when you told me. I made attempts unnoticed by day let me see as. I wanted to gain friends who were shallow and sheer but have been assured. Remember when you were awakened the girl who bows down but I think. I made if I look weird solid gray figures in over a week near salted wounds. I’m not sure how you the one who knows to my well-intended goals of being in-between.
I want to be about where I am, and quickly walk away. I want to a few friends since then. I wanted to see how they got here when you call and hiding beneath the couch cushions when convenient. I try my best me in my own way lucking my way out. I’d rather dream adhesive and slightly stretchy begging me to glue together broken seams who sweats blood. Who can I trust indoors? I love mostly keep it together young in my early years me of my worth.
a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a about about above accumulated aching acid actions addressing adhesive adorned ago all all alright am am am am am am an and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and and answers apologize approval arbiter are are are are are around around as as as as as as as aside assured at at at attempt attempts attending awake awakened away back back back back bare be be be be be be be be be be be be be be be be be beaming beck been been been before begging being being being believe believe beneath beneath beside best birds blood blue body bold both bows brags breathe bricks bring broken bumps burnt business but but but But but but but but butter by by by cake call call Can can can can can can’t can’t candles candles capable care cassettes catches cheek child chin coated comprehend concept construct contact convenient cope couch cough could countertop covers cracked cross cross-eyed curt cushions damage danced dawn day day day day-to-day days decisions delicate despite despite despites destined did dinner distance distracting doable dodging don’t don’t don’t done dots down down down draped dream due due each early earrings eat eat effort end envelopes evaporating evening every everything expectations experience eye face face faces fail fake fall fashioner faux feared feel few fiction figures finally find fire fires flex flinching fog folks for for for for for for foreign form forms fractured free fresh friends friends friends friends from from fuming gain gawam! girl glue go goals good got gray gray greeted gruesome guests guidance guise guts had hands has has have have have have have hear hear heart here ’hello’ hide hiding hold home home home hot hours how How how humming I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I’d I’d I’d I’d I’d I’d I’d I’d I’ll I’m if if if if ignore in in in in in in in in in in in in in in-between in inch indoors indulgent informs instead intestinal is is it It it it it it it it it it items joint joking jump keep keep keeps keeps keys kicks kind kind kind kind kitchen kitchen knotted know know knowing knows lashes last last laughs leap leave left left length let Let’s life life life light like like like like like like like like likely limited little live live live long long look looking loose loss lot love love love love love lucking lullaby made made made made made made made made made make makes makes making May May me me me me me me me me me me mean means might milk mind mind mind mind mine mirrors mistake more more’ most mostly mostly mostly move mud My My my My my my my my my My my my my my my my my my my my my my my my myself near near need needed never never-ending new new newborn nods not not not not not of of of of of of of of of of of of of of of of of of of of of of of of of off offered okay old omnipresent on on on on one one one one ongoing only only opportunities or or or our our out over over own pained pale passive plated power powdered prizes probably projected pulled put put question quickly quote rain rather rather rather rather rather rather rather real recall refresh regret regroup remain remain Remember resolution respond return revolve right romance room run salaam salted sat say say seams second see see see see see see seems sense set settled shadow shallow sharp sheer sheer shining shrink sick silence silently Silly since since since sincere sink sitting sleep slightly slits slow slow smacks smile smile smiling smirk smirk smooth so so soft solid somber sometimes sour space specifics splish-splashing spring stamp standards stands state sticky stiffen still stone stretchy struggle sugar-free sugary sure sweater sweats sweet swim syrup talk tape tears teeth tell than than than that that that that that that that that that that that that that that’s the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the The the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the them them then then then then then there these these these they think think think think thinking thinking thinking thinking this those thoughts through through ticket time time time time time tinges to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to to today together together together together told tomorrow tonight too touch trust truth try try turn two two Tylenol under understanding universe unnoticed unsalted upset us versus walk walk walls want want want want want want want want want want want want want want wanted wanted wanted wanted wanted wanted wanted wanted warm was was Was was was Was was washed water waves wavy way way we we we we wear wears week week week weeks weird well-intended were were were were were Were were weren’t weren’t what what’s what when when when when when when when where Where where where where while while while whispering who who who who who who who who Who who who who who who who who who why wield wings wings winning wisdom wish with with with with with with with with with with with with within womb woo-y wool words words words words words words words words world worn worse worth wounds wrongs ya years yesterday yet you you you you you you you you you you you You you you you you you’re young young your your your your your your your your your zifts
about my projected love life?
about where I am,
adhesive and slightly stretchy
a few friends since then.
and draped in worn wool
and powdered fake milk
and hiding beneath the couch cushions
and I don’t have time
and intestinal damage
and quickly walk away
and right of due wrongs
and shrink beneath.
and smirk on the slow walk back home.
and so on.
and sweet and kind,
and the fashioner of faux forms.
and touch
around your standards,
a set of words
as gruesome as it was gray?
as my actions turn to stone
attending to and aching for
at your beck and call, gawam!
back at me while
back then and today
before the fog settled in?
begging me to glue together broken seams
believe it or not.
both as a concept and a construct
burnt dots on my face tonight,
but have been assured
But I find
but I think
but I think I know
but my mind wears me
but never feel.
but not in real life.
but probably needed
by your loss
Can we talk
despite all of my despites
destined to live and breathe
down most days.
everything in one room,
for as long as I say
for me
fractured and soft
free yet passive
fresh and smooth
friends who were bold
friends who were shallow and sheer
friends who were young
hot and sour,
How long has it been
how they got here
I’d like to see
I’d rather dream
I’d rather experience
I’d rather fail
I’d rather live
I’d rather live
I’d rather remain
I’d rather want
I am
I am addressing
I am sometimes offered
I am thinking of
I am thinking of
I apologize
I attempt to
I can’t tell
I can finally hear
I can see
I can’t recall
I don’t mean to
if I look weird.
I flex my new wings
if my evening lullaby informs
if that means that
if you are being sincere,
I keep thinking
I left
I love
I love
I made
I made
I made
I made
I made
I made
I made
I made
I made attempts
in a bare kitchen sink
in over a week.
instead of tears,
in the folks who sat beside
in the form of a question.
in your universe
I respond
I see and hear
I struggle with
it all
it distracting that you fire
items that are sitting above
, I think
I think I need
I try my best
I try to ignore
It seems like we were
I wanted
I wanted
I wanted to believe
I wanted to care
I wanted to eat
I wanted to gain
I wanted to see
I wanted to wield
I want to
I want to be
I want to be
I want to be
I want to be
I want to be
I want to be
I want to be
I want to be
I want to be
I want to be
I want to put
I was a child.
I wear
I wish I had
I’ll bring
I’m not sure how you
knowing them by heart
let me see as
Let’s regroup and refresh
like a stamp with newborn wings
like rain on a warm day,
like the cough syrup that I feared
like the life that I could see
like the walls around us.
like unsalted butter
looking for opportunities to leap
lucking my way out
making light of cracked tape
May we be? May be.
me in my own way
me of my worth.
mind my expectations.
more delicate words tomorrow.
mostly keep it together.
my body through
my cake with the candles
My decisions revolve
My mind waves
My understanding of time is
My words are
near salted wounds
near the end of each week.
not flinching an inch
of a joint resolution
of being in-between.
of business envelopes
of sugary spring water
or a sweater that’s coated in mud
our dinner guests.
our kitchen countertop
pale birds of pained wisdom
prizes when I remain sticky
pulled it off
Remember when you were awakened
second to the one and only one,
sharp and cross-eyed,
silently humming the words
Silly, I know.
since I have not washed my face
since we last danced
slow and somber,
smiling from chin to cheek
solid gray figures
splish-splashing for hours
still fuming
than be.
than cope with
than sleep.
that have accumulated
that I was capable of
that likely makes little sense to you
that only I can comprehend
that you weren’t okay
that you were omnipresent
the approval of
the brags,
the girl who bows down
the guts to make my words
the indulgent arbiter
the laughs,
the mistake of being
then eat the candles too.
then evaporating in due time.
the never-ending state
the one who knows
the ongoing fiction within
these words despite
the silence might be worse.
the slits,
the smacks,
the specifics
the thoughts that run down my back
The truth is, I don’t want
the womb with limited guidance,
the zifts,
thinking to myself, so what?
those two foreign words
time to leave me be and
to be there
to be your kind of good
to cross fires and hold hands
to hide them at dawn.
to jump, swim and move.
to my well-intended goals
to sheer romance,
to smile, say ’hello,’
to sugar-free acid,
to your old cassettes
two weeks ago.
Tylenol for kicks.
under my guise,
unnoticed by day
versus where I was
Was the day-to-day
Was the distance doable?
Were you awake
what I have done
what’s left of me.
when convenient
when greeted with new faces
when I was home, sick.
when you call.
when you told me
Where did your mind go?
where the keys are,
where these words stiffen and smirk
while adorned in plated earrings
while dodging eye contact
whispering, ’I love you more.’
who bumps then nods,
Who can I trust indoors?
who catches the fall
who covers these loose lashes
who has, quote, been through a lot.
who keeps it mostly together,
who keeps it together mostly,
who makes love
who stands aside a beaming shadow,
who sweats blood
who tinges with regret,
why you are upset.
winning the world over
with a curt smile,
with a return ticket home.
with knotted answers
with the bricks,
with wavy mirrors,
woo-y and blue
ya salaam
yesterday or last week
you’re alright.
you every day
you from a length of space and time
young in my early years.
you put this kind of effort
your kind of power
your teeth shining and
You weren’t joking
Headgear is a collection of passages that float around the topics of childhood and indifference while set in a cross-cultural haze. Pulling from the author's desire to control environments that lack resolve, the text assembles fragmented sentences that have been shuffled, remixed, and revised repeatedly. Words turn into motifs, migrating within a fluid pattern sequence. The final outcome is a series of adaptations that seek to carve out new meaning in the face of limited language.
Written by Shiraz Abdullahi Gallab
Programmed and designed by Becca Abbe, Cdxs L.L.C.
Set in Px437_IBM_PS2thin1, Fluxisch Else, and Times New Roman.