Poems from ghostPastry
You’re right, you’re right. You’ve always been right. Our kind of thing is different.
We could never fall in love the way the other one...
(Or: how I learned that sweet things were the quickest way to my heart.)
Even the smallest gesture can contain so much meaning.
I had...
I’m drinking on this rooftop patio; bitters and absolut and citrus and vodka and ginger, something sweet to mask the alcohol, on the...
He always looks as though he’s tasted something bitter,
so much so that i wonder if the cigarette he lifts to his lips tastes sweet to him...
a november leaf,
you turn it over anew.
lying in wait,
you murmur and coo.
dead grass beneath,
it’s just outside of your reach.
the sky...