this generation

writing in my memos searching for the right words to say

it doesn’t have to be this way

prone to overthinking and driving myself insane

i’ve figured out if you’re just flat out honest

it really helps the brain

why in this generation, cell phones in the way

do we limit ourselves to abbreviations and a single smiley face

for i hate small talk and “how was your day?”

when all i really want to say is

combinations of the letters of the alphabet arranged in different ways 

that make for deep conversation cause i could talk to you all day 

i like to dance around my living room 

in socks that are way too big

a sweater that is way too big

with a cat that is a little heavier than she should be

and a heart that is just the same 

not sure what i’m looking for

not sure when it’s coming

but i know for a fact i can’t paint my nails like a lady

and they better be okay with that

a wabi-sabi heart

in Japan, when a piece of pottery cracks or breaks, it is filled with gold. 

wabi-sabi is a concept of finding beauty in imperfections. 

i’d like to think there’s a lot of gold in broken hearts.  

no worries, i, too, am fluent in awkward 

after the breakup 

i told him that i loved the rain

and he said that he hated it

it was everywhere he didn’t want it to be at the moment 

it started raining saturday night

and i got a text from him 

north atlantic garbage patch

it took me a little while to finally allow the wind to blow away your name when it was the first thought that would pop into my brain when i had news i wanted to tell 

your name would get swept in a vortex so fast, unable to escape 

it took me a little while to see the connection between you and the North Atlantic Garbage Patch 

you shouldn’t be there in the ocean of my thoughts, you didn’t belong there, stuck in the land of forget-me-not 

my heart beats against my chest

it wants to break away from that barrier

and reaches for my sleeve

oh, how it loves to lay there

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