low lights

I’m not sure I’m homesick
so much as starved for a place
that I’ve never known
I’m cherub faced like them
I guess
but not so much stone
too much blood and guts
and hair and muck
In CVS yesterday a lady
followed me around the store
I had a book bag on
and an apple watch
but I still looked “ready to
stole”
at work I’m always smiling
always grinning
tongue pressed up against
the ceiling
weird muscle to flex
but that’s all I know
at night I grind my teeth
and clench my fist inside
my thighs and
I think about Prague a lot
the bridge and the absinthe
and the cartwheels on the Petřín
that might’ve been real freedom
I think.
I watch my movie in a loop
and think of the low-lights
in the storms
the islands made me
this loud
you know
too much sun
and salt water
swallowed and up
my nose
– Sheila C.
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of me

i follow your voice to the morning

and i rise with the small hairs

on the crook of your neck.

i stay there

and sit quietly

with your freckles.

they mirror mine

but i don’t think it’s strange..

someone must’ve

pulled us apart

before we were flesh.

– sheila c.

?@$&

it’s hot as a goddamned sauna and thick sweat is collecting where my thighs graze

I’m talking to myself in a beige room, lightly dressed and fully faded.. 

lord, I don’t have the energy to drag a moist toilette across my face to remove my make up 

much less feel like everything is a chasm 

i just.. I just wanted to get to know him so bad! i hid everything and now it’s all gushing over 

why does everything have to be so fucking entrenched in EMOTION 

I’m desperate for a second of nonchalance 

peace 

peace 

fuck.. 

im never going to know peace

– Sheila C