K. L. Howlett

i'll keep stealing
          and hoarding
          ink drenched scraps
          of the greats
          in hopes some
          ephinany leads
          to my own
          tortured success

I'll write poetry
          until my bones
          crack and
          seize up
          
          I'll sing songs
          until my tongue
          is sandpaper
          
          I'll make art
          until the paint
          becomes my blood
          and my body 
          turns to clay
          
          I'll keep persisting
          even when
          they try to
          lock me away.

Finished "A Symphony of Echoes" today - 8/10, do I have the next book? No. Do I want the next book? Yes!!!! Will I be looking for it in the library? Also yes!!!!

Note: if you read a book and there is a character named "David" in it, close that book right away as the character known as David will die. I don't make the rules, the authors are cruel and have conspired amongst each other to make this an unspoken rule.

the irony
          is not lost
          on me;
          
          men directing
          and writing
          stories
          
          based on
          women
          liberation
          
          only to have
          the protagonists
          "choose" a life
          
          of service
          and gender norms,
          eventhough
          
          their acceptance
          to yale
          arrived.
          
          because women
          can do it all,
          even give up
          
          on their dreams
          for those picket
          white fences
          
          and rosy
          cheek
          babies.

more people need
          cat cuddles in their
          lives
          
          the ones you get
          when you collapse in bed
          after a day of turmoil
          
          and uncertainty.
          
          scrolling into a void
          until a little paw
          reaches out
          
          bats your phone away
          and demands your attention.
          
          climbing under the duvet
          head nudging your hands
          and legs
          
          telling you to breathe
          and be with them
          for a second
          
          or five.
          
          i promise you
          a cat cuddle
          will calm you down
          
          and help the pain
          ease for a moment.
          
          we are all missing
          more cat cuddles
          in our lives
          
          and i think they
          are missing human
          ones too.

i miss writing meal plans,
          getting excited for the food
          i would make
          
          and taking myself to grab
          groceries, explore the isles
          and come back home whenever
          i felt like it.
          
          please do not get me wrong,
          i'm very appreciative to have
          a roof over my head
          
          and to have had your family
          accept me in,
          
          but i can still miss
          my independence.
          
          i miss being able
          to walk into town
          
          just a five minute
          stroll
          and finding a quiet cafe
          to people watch,
          
          maybe read or
          draw for an hour
          or so.
          
          i miss browsing
          charity shops
          in my own time
          and not feeling
          like i'm wasting
          your time.
          
          i miss having a room
          that was just mine,
          one i can decorate
          and clean
          
          without it becoming
          a tip after ten minutes.
          
          i miss being
          down the road
          from my friends
          
          lounging on their couches
          discussing film theory
          and art,
          
          suddenly deciding
          let's go grab a train
          to london and go to
          that exhibition.
          
          please don't get me wrong,
          i love our little corner
          of your parent's house
          and how you built me 
          this bookshelf
          
          but i miss feeling
          like myself
          and hate walking on eggshells.
          
          i'm stuck in the middle
          of a village and
          a town
          
          where each way is an hour
          walk and i know 
          i still haven't learnt
          how to drive
          
          but i really don't
          want a car.
          
          i really miss the frequent
          public transport
          and the 'walkability'
          of my favourite bookstore.
          
          i know we can't afford
          our own place
          
          but maybe i can afford
          my own space.

social battery
          is at an all time
          low
          
          but people
          are coming
          so let's put on
          a show.
          
          i do not want
          to clean or
          put on 
          'nice clothes'
          
          and play host
          for two days.
          
          i want to cook
          what i want to eat
          and read this
          really good book
          about history.
          
          i know they are
          our friends
          and they've come
          all this way
          
          but i really wish
          i could have
          three days
          to myself
          
          not think about
          to do lists
          or money
          or who i have
          or have not talked to.
          
          i want to read,
          write, make art
          in my own company
          
          but people
          are coming over
          
          so i have to
          put on
          a show.

this is it.
          
          no more customer service,
          "how are you getting on?"
          
          or
          
          "what can i help you with today?"
          
          no more disgruntled customers
          "why is this not in sale?"
          
          and 
          
          "why don't you have my size?"
          
          no more pleasing the area manager
          and going to unnecessary meetings
          
          on
          
          how we can improve the 'dress sales' in winter.
          
          no more feeding the corporate wheel
          that grinds me down
          
          until
          
          i have no energy left for me.
          
          this is it, I am finally
          free.

i think of all
          the houses on
          hills.
          
          does anyone
          reside there?
          
          i hope so.
          
          melancholic houses
          all too often
          make
          sad tales.