And sometimes I bake really tasty bread

Wishlist? 👉👈 store.steampowered.com/app/2922570/...

Sometimes joy is a pink duck cup that lights up

And sometimes I garden

And more pretty cakes!

Sonnet 18 remained Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Or shall I seek in thee aspects of spring? Rough tempest doth shake when uttering They, A Wintery delight in Identity. Sometimes too close the eyes of others peered, And often is delight in shadow dimm'd. 🧵

Sometime i make snow ice cream with the kiddos

sometimes I make pretty cakes

We need Pete Buttigieg as a clear messenger, more than ever.

I am only one voice, Among the roar of people. Who am I to elicit change? Get up today? The same tomorrow. Laundry and then? More tomorrow. Why bother with the little things? When youtube beckons, An infinity of happy gifs? Facebook shows me what I'm not. 🧵

Why do we reach out to the fire, Why sear soul deep desire Why stretch out my hand to burn And find the fire doesn't notice?

* I wrote this in 2017* Unprecedented the word makes me viscerally react That's supposed to mean I'm polarized Or easily triggered As if it's not a word tied to all kinds of trauma once in a century floods that happened back to back 🧵

I am only one voice, Among the roar of people. Who am I to elicit change? Get up today? The same tomorrow. Laundry and then? More tomorrow. Why bother with the little things? When youtube beckons, An infinity of happy gifs? Facebook shows me what I'm not. 🧵

Is it ever enough? This hole keeps begging For more to keep pouring in. More love, more touch More words - never enough. A black hole swallowing. Even sunlight gives too little. The words that whisper; That tiny voice inside my head. 🧵

And sometimes I bake bread

Witches and fairies and maybe old gods The librarian laughs, hands me some books Try these few, these ends and these odds And tell me which adventures you took Bag overflowing with pages of glory And witches with spells out in the woods Racing home to devour each new story 🧵

No lies in shadows black Nor storm or wine dark sea no truths in dappled sun light 'neath the forrest trees From your lips these lies they fall You're the only one for me Like honeyed drops to consume You're reckless and care free

I am not fucking fragile I will not fucking break I may take a knee May bend and bow From all the stress and weight But I am not fucking fragile I do not not fucking break

Tomorrow I’m gonna force myself to my feet I’ll wipe the mud from my face I’ll spit blood in their eye I’ll stand up again and again and again But today I’m gonna lay in the dirt a second longer and despair for what’s to come and the people who will fall forever

Just doing my civic duty, Igniting a social flame. Have you heard the latest gossip? Have you seen the latest slain? Let's march upon the politicians, And burn their buildings down. 🧵

The daily grind sometimes the daily grief always just barely on time the setup is brief 5:00 a.m. wake up call lights shine in tired eyes zombie shamble down the hall can you feel those ties that bind Let's go get this bread 🧵

Once upon a mid-afternoon while I wandered around the room Among many a skein and ball of yarn forgotten upon my floor While I wandered nearly tripping suddenly there came a dripping As if rain drops were gently tapping, tapping along my floor 🧵1

Lyrical flows Like honey and dust Empirical foes Like copper and rust Where one is an answer The other a question In flow like a dancer Or stopped like a stanchion Words roll off the tongue Like tear drops and bile Like the weight of the Sun In the river denial 🧵1

Hubris is the gateway to enter a mortals soul. Starting with the tiny steps Of little useless goals. Little trophies, That say each brat is the best. 🧵1

I want to get new mud on my shoes And new scents in my nose I want to find new roads to see New sand squished between my toes I want to stare up at new trees and new skies To stand on new mountain tops And sit beside new camp fires on my knees I want to find new dry deserts and new seas 🧵1

Molten warmth solidified in time, Gold feels like this. A moonbeam frozen in icy splendor Such is silver seen. Colors evoke such vivid reactions. These metals enfold Such vital abstractions. Where springs forth the warmth found in gold? From what corners do frozen tendrils reach the silver? 🧵1

And I cook pretty cakes

To write to whit and produce to suit A fumble sometimes comic A puzzle remit and bearing fruit I think therefore i am (iambic)

Chasing minutes in my alarm clock every time i hit snooze Stealing time from the other side of the morning just to stay with you

Wonder wild woven woods where paths bend round oak and yew where the wrens do warble among the whispering winds where the wild witch winds her way among the flora and fauna ever watching the wandering souls whose footsteps break the silence treading new paths among her woven woods

There's only so much of me that can slide through the digital world only so much of me that translates through the keys to another screen no texture to the thoughts no nuance, no real emotion that flows from fingertips only so much of me I can't slide through the digital screen