Untitled

Written by Talia Graziano 

 Photograph by  Zulmaury Saavedra

Photograph by Zulmaury Saavedra

If you love something, let it go

let it go until there's nothing left of it. 

Let your house go. Your ciggarettes. 

That damn good fucking cup of coffee in the morning. 

Let it go. Let it all go. Let them go. 

Him and her let them fucking go. 

Who needs 'em anyway? You let go and then it all stops hurting after a while. 

It subsides into the recesses of some dark passage that reads, memories or something. Let it go and see what you become. Let them go and see who they become. 

 

You tell yourself you're not 21 any more. No

i want to be free. Above them all. I'm going to fly man. Everything's going to hell while you just sit there sipping your fucking cow puss latte you insolent bastard. The nerve. The Nerve. 

 

Before i fall into my cup of coffee remember me. 

Remember trying to like me. i did pretend

pretend to listen to your arduous talk about the incessant abuse life inflicted on you. 

Bleeding on my bedroom floor at 6AM. You're a fucking fool i would recite in my mind. Never out loud to someone as dumb as you would never ring through your wooden skull. 

 

Ah, to surround herself with friends more insecure than her to not feel the burn of posing as mere distractions from your derived existence. 

 

Maybe it's you. Maybe it's me. 

 

Maybe it's this distorted grimacing image we call life.

Scratching on the walls of the echo chamber, beckoning us to take a breath.