​the worst thing about love is i remember it.   i walk around all day thinking: i’m going to die in the universe you loved me in.   i get so jealous of euthanized dogs. ~ June Gehringer (There is no rule that says I can’t reply with another poem)
Aug 7, 2024

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This poem is so striking and pulls on my heart strings in a violent way I haven’t felt in most other writing, especially the excerpts below I want to live longer. I want to love you longer, say it again, I want to love you longer & sing that song again. & get pummeled by the sea & come up breathing & hot sun & those walks & those kids  & hard laugh, clap your hands. I am not ready to die yet. & when I go or you go, let me see you again somewhere, or you see me. Isn’t that you, old friend, my love? you might say, while swimming in some ocean to the small fish at your ankle. Or, Weren’t you my sister once? I might say to the sad, brown dog who follows me down the street. Or to the small boy or old woman or horse eye or to the tree. I know I knew I know you, too.
Feb 13, 2025
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My favorite poem changes frequently, but this one hit me hard recently. “How should we like it were stars to burn With a passion for us we could not return? If equal affection cannot be, Let the more loving one be me.” Such a beautiful description of unrequited love.
Mar 18, 2024
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i can’t listen to music without thinking about her. every piece of shitty poetry that condemns my for you page makes me think of her in our living room. she is holding bills as she sits on our couch, a calculator on the table and a glass in the other hand. i will ask her what she wants for dinner, and she will tell me. there’s something so guttural about knowing you want to love someone for the rest of your life. that little moments like a dinner order are exactly what will give you the drive to wake up and slave away to a 9 to 5. ive been thinking about what i wanna be a lot lately. i think it’s honestly teaching. philosophy. i like to imagine myself as a philosophy professor discussing love with my students, i would tell them about my little artist at home and our baby girl and how i too thought marriage was simply the removal of autonomy until it befell my door. i think that’s a normal way to feel, with tubes of “the good ol ball and chain” and “can’t live with her can’t live without her“ down our throats like prospective foie gras. but my love is gentle. it is patient. it is kind.
Mar 16, 2025

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