firstfullmoon:

It’s November again // This time last year, I was so lonely. Sometimes, that’s just / how it has to be. Sometimes, I just want to cover myself / in tiny electric blankets & cry forever. It’s November again / & I’m ready to cry. Each year, something different. Nothing / will ever be like the night I went to get coffee across a park / covered in late-October frost & missed death by an inch / or a centimeter. It makes no difference no matter how / you count it. I am filled with hot coffee & so much smoke / that most of the time, it’s hard to see clearly. It fills my eyes / & my whole heart. A piece of flesh the size of a some small / animal. Some thoughts I’ve had recently: the brightest / thing in the world. The moon on Halloween. The kind of meat / we eat after everyone else has gone to sleep. Like everybody / else, I want to die someday but not anytime soon. I like dusk / just as much as anyone but I think I’m becoming more keen / on sunlight, waking up to the sweet & coffee of the kitchen / & all those birds. There are plastic spikes on my windowsill / to keep the pigeons away & I don’t know what to think / about that. Things like that fill my whole entire animal heart / just like the smoke & coffee. Thin heat from the radiator / in the library. Frosty fields where I almost died & died again / until I forgot what it means to die or stay alive. It’s November / again & most of us are still alive. This makes me so glad except / for the fact that it has to be said. I look outside & a black flock / of birds erupts into something that’s never been described before.ALT

Talin Tahajian, ā€œIt’s November againā€ [ID in ALT]

(via smalleared)

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    Talin Tahajian, “It’s November again” [ID in ALT]
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