edit: unfinished

ed. note: purged the subject awhile ago, so although i can’t “finish” this piece, i’ve accepted that i’m just done with it. enjoy. 

you loomed over priceless summer memories
like spanish moss on towering southern oak trees
as beautifully depressing as lana del rey’s seasonal sadness

hanging over me
your residual presence haunted every waking moment
until i ached for freedom from what was chained to my mind
so breathlessly trapped within the cadence of our last words…

until it finally faded like incense smoke into a cool september wind

as sobering as any pain
autumn swept in desperately wiping away the remnants of darkness
replaced with only the sweetness of sifted sugars over beignets
no more raindrops
or tiny earthquakes

and you just stopped indiscriminately appearing…

Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red.
Kait Rokowski (via gruszka)


Lisa Bonet
Vogue USA issue December 1992

had the pleasure of being myself slash model for a day. and honestly, it was more than a walk around this gorgeous city – it was a personal renewal. had to face the lens, when i’m usually behind it, and allow a glimpse into the, um, “new-ish” version of myself. much love and all respect to the shooter, bryon summers.

enjoy. xo. 

i’m no ordinary woman. my dreams come true. and if this is a dream, i will kill the man who tries to wake me…