A Carefully Crafted Blend of Earl Grey Wine for the fine members of the American Society of Virology

Sketching Strangers #1

His lips parted, moving silently. Every word on the little card, relayed off his tongue. I felt attracted to him, but I can’t pinpoint why. There were several things about him that I found attractive, sure, but nothing really gripping, per se. He had a baseball hat on backwards, only…

We play like children
with our tongues so coy
a double entendre run
out like a missing toy

I want to write a poem about how I am not your beauty standard.

I am a woman of color, but the melanin in my skin has been hiding since the age of fourteen.
I am pale.
I am 'whitewashed'.

I am crooned over by old Asian women who want…

At fourteen, I was now living in a very rich, suburban neighborhood far on the outskirts of the city — attending one of the best high schools in the state.

Unfortunately, because of the housing crisis, we lost our home. We were forced to move back to the city —…

and everything I’m afraid of.

When I was six years old

I had my first orgasm

I wasn’t abused or anything

I just kind of discovered it, I guess?

When I was seven years old,

I cried, whole-heartedly, sobbing

to my poor dad

who had no idea how to console…

I'm clawing
I'm digging my nails into the flesh
I'm gripping, desperately, so longingly
to the wisp of an idea
the idea
that you could love me
I know you say you do
and I want to tell you I believe you
But I don't even know what love is
Maybe that's why it's such a fucking struggle
to accept that maybe
maybe
someone really does love me this time
...this time.
it tells it all, doesn't it.
I could write volumes
hell, I even intended to
but now you see
the reason I'm grasping
so desperately
is because anxiety
depression
Fcgcgckhclchlclvh
is all
bringing me down

The pessimism lays awake.

The pessimism lays in wait.

Each long-drawn inhale

and anxiety ridden exhale

spitting reminders

splintering last moments

I cannot even bring myself to cry

I don’t want to say goodbye.

Alex Smith

Writer, Artist, Musician, Biologist.

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