A little bit of life mixed with a little bit of creative writing
Juniper —
Always feel like I’m doing something wrong. It never goes away. It follows me home and lives in the closet. This place isn’t healthy, mentally or physically. The distress, the people, the smells. I don’t know if I can take much more. Maybe I’ll give it a year. Maybe not. We’ll see.
I’m well aware that no one likes me; you don’t have to keep trying to imply otherwise.
I’m trying to come back.
Juniper —
I’m sorry for
being a pest.
I’m sorry for
being annoying.
Sorry for being
myself.
Juniper —
stranger in my own home
that’s how it goes.
thank you for the invite,
i was going to be here anyway
you’re not here.
you’re not there.
maybe that’s gonna be ok…
maybe i needed you to talk to.
stranger in my own home–
alone in a crowd–
story of my life.
one day i’ll move away from you (all).
Juniper —
Eighty degrees in the shade and you’re still running the heater. Go out just to catch a breeze and cool down…as much as possible. Fans slowly rotating hot air around the room; heads nodding.
Talk long into the night after we’ve retreated to the porch. Comfortable silence; side glances. Stealing smiles and watching lightning bugs.
Eighty degrees in the nighttime and you’re still running the heater. Faces flush…
Juniper —
“Can’t get rid of her.”
“Can’t get rid of her.”
I’m standing right here, behind you, say it to my face. Tell me how you really feel. Please, don’t hide it. Say it to me instead of the man behind the counter. Paying for lunch, “can’t get rid of her”.
Don’t worry, I’ll get out of your hair soon. Don’t worry anymore about me.
I know no one likes me. Can’t get rid of me apparently.