pisces, water your garden of self-love.
aries, get off your little machine.
taurus, this was no accident.
cancer, it still matters.
leo, locate the emergency exits.
virgo, numbers are knives you need to put down.
sagittarius, they are proud of you.
capricorn, peel the dead layers of your heart.
scorpio, have ambitions that threaten.
gemini, people are not pawns.
libra, lovely is becoming boring.
aquarius, follow forgiveness.
If there’s one thing that attending Rice the last two years has taught me, it’s failure and humility.
Reading through upwards of thirty applications for chair positions is definitely a unique insight into the processes I’ve undergone each semester.
Since matriculating, I’ve learned better than to take any sort of rejection here personally. Every single one of my classmates is incredible and equally worthy of positions across campus, and despite how frustrating it can be, it makes me really grateful to be a part of such an extraordinary group of people.
All this to say, I can’t imagine being anywhere else. <3
i was at a party last week
i made out with this hot chick
were you there? i thought i saw you
i’ve been thinking about you a lot since that night
call me and we can hang out sometime
have you talked to my bro recently?
If you see him, tell him i said hi
you’ve got really soft hands
is that creepy?
why why why why why why me
srry bout that
i was drunk
havent heard from you in a while
is this even your number anymore?
1. In the town of my birth, there is the body of a little girl buried beneath the playground next to the church.
2. I was born a January frozen, a pair of blue lips in a blizzard.
3. I have touched the memories so often they do not hurt anymore.
4. I have reoccurring dreams about boyscouts, wooden stairs, dark parking lots.
5. I have reoccurring nightmares about the same things.
6. I was born in a small town, surrounded by mountains that were either open arms or teeth.
7. I keep a shoebox under my bed. Inside is everything I want to forget.
8. When I left my hometown, I thought the mountains would hold me back or swallow me.
9. I keep a shoebox under my bed. Inside are his hands.
10. I’ve found that my voicebox is not in my throat, but in my wrists.
11. I keep a mason jar by my window. Inside is everything I can’t remember.
12. The only time I’ve ever been back is for a funeral.
13. I keep a mason jar by my window. Inside are his face, his name, the sound of his voice.
14. It has taken so long to convince myself that everyone’s hands are not his hands.
15. Repression is a bitch.
16. My silence is a shovel.
17. Every day I do not speak, another scoop of dirt.
18. I have been filling this grave for ten years.
19. I think that little girl is me.
20. I’ve buried her myself.