Fond of Fonts

its never really about/ where you are but/ who you're with/yet/it isn't so bad when/ the scenery changes/ the city where tea tax was a/ horrendous offense/ clam chowder is a once-in-a-/ lifetime dish +/ witches' home stories are less/ than two hours away. BOSTON where i held his hand/ strolled down sidewalks +/ fell in love all over again with him/ our adventure/ and everything/ bet(in)ween - Spring 2019 (4/30)

today com·mu·ni · ca·tion changed my afternoon, an as·tro·nom·i·cal instance when mere words-- l  t e s                    composed  e t  r intricately against each + one another, allowed the chance for the: boulder that's been crushingly               on perched my                     shoulders                                                                up floats a w a y - -                             up +                                                up + and I'm le...

i will huff, puff + blow your house down i'll manipulate a pin to prick you + slumber you -- to death i'll prowl + seduce your four-legged prodigies, then wear their fame upon my shoulders not only will your foot never land in a shoe that should've never fit -- i'll shatter that glass + slit any other mention of the word happy to your ending better yet, i'll inquire about your life + happiness with chagrin --                                             then spit on your grave                                             when you're long                                             gone . . . - modern day Cruella (4/28)

mondays are a new start, fresh beginning to a new week + a look ahead to even small changes that will make a difference in this lifetime or the next . . . but what about sundays? on the monthly calendar, sunday is the beginning of a new week. self care            sunday self love           sunday second chance                 sunday . . . but todays monday-- damn. -only 5 more to go (4/27)

you're here you should be here you would've loved you couldn't imagine if you could see how guess what oh gods stop. breathe. it'll get                        worse better better, please. - tomorrow (4/26)

when the wind whistles past my eardrums + settles against the back of my neck                                      its okay. when the suns rays crawl along my skin + creep into my pores consuming my body + enveloping me with a heated embrace                                      its welcomed. when the fresh water trinkles down the ravine + waddles its way around my feet i can taste the bubbles forming between the surface + air . . .                                      its relished. the sway of the trees the smell of the fire-- the purity of this moment piece time                                 ...

This stand alone (for the moment) fantasy novel was not what I had expected! Goblins! A world--the Permafrost--on the edge of humankind's world. Main character, Janneka, was the final daughter in her family but was raised as the male successor to her family. She was raised as a young warrior, training extensively with her father and other village people until she was exceptional in combat fighting and hunting. Goblins were the humankind's enemy, and there was one goblin in particular who changed Janneka's world as she knew it, burning down her village and ruining any family and friends she held dear throughout her life thus far. She was taken as a prisoner and suffered tremendous torture and abuse from her captor. However, Janneka was inevitably spared and given solace from another goblin who in turn nursed her back to health and trained her to be even better than before. This story line explores relationships, both romantic and personal, that the author spends a great de...

sit upon the thorns + attempt to guess                               at what is it   me                knock knock mother       over there but almost                                   that makes      tick tock  goddess here to share     over here and then                                a                                                                         out                             ...

I am a warrior who takes no prisoners + steers clear of nonsense forged from a female of fire + ice influenced by a male entwined w/ ferocity + emotion stubborn ambitious stoic determined a bull connected to the goddess-- mother Earth in every word grateful--welcomed--accepted                                                   taking the bull, by the                                                                    horns --                                                  I'll take my world, by the               ...

its no alarm in the morning waking up to a freshly steeped mug of tea with 3-- --yes 3 heaping spoonfuls of sugar its the book opened with at least 100 pages left + nothing but           time to enjoy it . . . slowly blissfully both seconds/minutes/hours tick by when the teabag finishes           steeping at the feet curled up underneath the book perched open to page . . . - a glance at happiness (4/22)

every crack/ tear/ snap/ twist/ is both an outcry/ of pain/+ pleasure to the moments/ areas I should say/ when you are screaming/ for a quick release/ + a fair crack/tear/snap/twist/ suffices note/             - I am sorry. for neglecting the/ better time of yoga/ the stretching/working out/ the kinks of knowing/ what you need/+ how to/ award you the contentedness/ of having it. - an ode to my body (4/21)

never quite sure if these ever get listened to or discarded without an ears inquiry regardless I'm coming down from a Mondays worth of highs + lows + just wanted you to know you were protruding into my thoughts consistently along with: deadlines groceries dinner ideas + last minute leftover Sunday laundry (4/20)

Don't for the past 10 months the 19th day (between 30 + 31 of those accounted for) has been the most difficult for so many reasons death isn't easy especially in the aftermath + to think differently should fain ignorance sympathy is an honest tactic until pity seeps in (which doesn't suffice) actions are louder than words however these words spoke volumes in an attempt to quit bullshitting relationships were halted-- relationships in which happiness/ brightness/giving was demanded-- to harbor for one let alone all was inhumane so snip in response: no wedding invitations (something to smile at + not mean) to stop wallowing in sadness + own pity + emotionally invest in the happiness of other recipients around -- to fake it + make it for a group effort in other words: get the fuck over it  + stop letting shit fly by be happy for all around because emotions were contorted due to the decision to guard + - hope to hear a cons...

what did I do?                                                 is it even about                                           me & you anymore is it more about what's happened what's going to happen what could happen to you                                                    & then me . . .                           without an                        "us" anymore? guess so                                         ...

unmold me between your palms roll me around,         friction forming between           our                 skins caress me between your fingertips underneath your pads, feel for my                weaker spots shudder across me as you work back my tough , warped layers-- feel for the softer sections under                                           neath protrude between me exposed watch me  b    underneath your grip               m    l              o       o                   s                   s as you p l u c k a w a y ...

mornings and evenings filled with:                          "I love you"s                          "Sleep good"s &                          "Have a good day"s moments of questions:                          "Why me"s                          "All this for what"s &                          "Do you really"s followed by comforting reassurances:                          "More than anything"s                          "Never leave"s &           ...

Givers            Givers                       Givers                                  in this world We grow                up  up  up to decipher what                              matters                                           most spend time -- our time                       accepting                                        it-- what it is we've got                          ...

paranoia stumbles between trees and slides underneath surfaces laced w/ anxiety & indecisiveness-- surfaces of: cars money bedsheets cellphone screens time-- a constant background countdown along water's surface between waves peek & contemplate a quicker, pain free out--                          released . . .  (4/14)

This 2018 suspense novel was extremely intense. Based in a California setting, Jonathon and his daughter, Olive, are grieving over the disappearance of wife and mother, Billie. Coming up on a year and closer to the life insurance money, things become suspicious and both Jonathon and Olive have to wonder: Is Billie really dead? The entire novel follows the unraveling secrets that make up Billie's life--both envisioned by her family and validated facts. Her past, present, and somewhat future are all examined and persecuted with scrutiny. I enjoyed Brown's writing style, her character development of a dynamic number of characters who are all crucial to the story's synopsis. Brown's ability to set the environmental tone of each scene was done well, allowing the reader a visual aspect of the story to follow: varying homes, landscapes, locations, etc. The epilogue admittedly threw me for a loop and I'm not sure how I truly feel about it! I'd highl...

If I didn't have this, I wouldn't know: - what it'd be like to quiz someone 60(+) my senior on history questions & have her kick my ass - how much the elderly crave ice cream and snacks (more than any young adult munchie fiend) - how important, BEYOND IMPORTANT, bingo is to the elderly - how much talking at every waking second is a coping mechanism - how important family is to the patri-matri arch - how quick a week/month/year goes by - how precious a last conversation can be (4/13)

Capability Culpability                                                                                                                             Presumably Assumptions Dynamics Roller-coasters Next Turn Another Stride Movement Development Causality Duality Performance Success Keep Going Go-Go . . . (4/12)

Release the bad air toxic energy overwhelming sensations to second guess your decisions you are capable you are wondrous you are an exuberant woman-- share that wisely not everyone deserves your . . . anything in "her" words: you open your heart to people and let them in-- they hurt you and you should've built that wall so build it now Release. (4/10)

consume me, let me slip in between your lips, glide along your teeth, and dip down your tongue crawl down your throat and erupt deep in your belly sparks'll shoot across your skin as you suffocate under my consumption of your person. I'll cradle you in my hands until the next                                                sip. (4/9)

its the ri   pp   led   wa   ve   s along the waters surface that set a hyp   no   tized   image to follow and lose oneself in the basking light of the sun's setting rays -- heavy lidded eyes in the zone display eyelashes forged to keep eyes clear and open to an evening in the spring with telltales of promised walks, handled bicycles and late-night dances in the rain an afternoon to reminisce and hope by the river (4/8)

Deprivation deprivation                      Deprivation                      deprivation Sleeplessness a constant within a weeks span--ensued by an eruption of                                                                                             chaos                                                                                                      chaos uncertainty uncertainty ...

It was not us who envied you-- dear Edgar or your maiden Ms. Annabel Lee For we from heaven up above do not haste in anger towards love but primp and pamper Ms. Annabel Lee whose time and fortune was for me. No jealousy, no spite could overpower true loves might its her time plain and true accompanying us until we accommodate you (4/7)

    I walk by your old house and the door is moved from the neighbors drive to the front yard But there is a new path leading to new stairs and I stare and can't see the old pool because its torn down I remember the feel of the stoned path to your back porch and my bare feet smacking against them . I remember your garage and that damn shed and the broken chain-link fence near it where we used to sneak and hide in the game I remember kick ball and the sensor light that came on at night telling me to go home and return the next day. Now there are foreign cars in the driveway and a woman I don't recognize decides to sweep the back patio like there's dirt surrounding it But it's my memories my past your house your ghost but you aren't a ghost because you aren't dead-- just counties away at some school with other friends who aren't me and we haven't been friends for nine years since some...

BATHTUBS DON'T DO IT FOR ME ANYMORE/AFTER SCRUBBING DISCOMFORT AND GUT-WRENCHES DOWN THE DRAIN/NEVER THOUGHT THE TRAUMA OF DROWNING/WOULD FLOAT ACROSS MY EYELIDS/BUT ITS SUFFOCATING ME/SO FAR BUT SO CLOSE/EVERY DAY/A LIFE JACKET THROWN COUNTLESS TIMES BY/RUPTURED " I'M HERE "S/BUT I'M OVER THERE AND BARELY/ TREADING WATER /I'M STANDING IN THE SHOWER/COUNTING ALL THE SWIRL S/LEADING DOWN THE DRAIN /AND ALL I SEE IS YOUR/BODY/AND ALL I SMELL IS/METAL/AND ALL I KNOW IS/YOUR/GONE (4/4)

suspicions run wild between: laptop screens sweat skin sheen collard greens hindered meetings mysterious disappearances lead: assumed death presumptuous ends considered runaways definitive leave curious adventure sprouts: atrocities heartbreak withered longing hopeless outcomes (4/3)

"pattern"- a form or model proposed for imitation you can't be replicated, you can't be seen as another link in the chain , you aren't patented with familiarized fluff, flare, and appeal you're immaculate, you're exquisite, a true diamond in the rough kind of type-- but not type . . . ABC etc the type-- the one and only type an eruption of chaos and wonder-- a bubble to pop in mere seconds -- (4/2)

early evening strolls grill-charred marks fresh picked fruit ice-cold lemonade spring . . . its coming (4/1) unfamiliar boundaries enforced separations inadequate situations inconvenient circumstances four-outta-twelve (4/1) spiraling circumstances and uneasy situations/ clipped conversations and terse tones/ embraces foreign and forced interactions/ chaos ensues fear/ fear of the, quite literal, unknown (4/1)