#Ethereal vs ephemeral skin#

write bottom-of-the-barrel, and then keep scraping it. write about power outlets, write in the style of internet poets, write frost-length sonnets on how pink her lips are. Write about stuff you don’t really understand, write about social problems you barely experience, write about slam poetry. stuff that somehow, impossibly, kinda makes you lighter. stuff that, afterwards, makes you feel heavier. but stuff you can’t get rid of, really, not ever. write stuff that looks better at the back of your closet.

#Ethereal vs ephemeral skin#

stuff that hurts to read and hurts to look at later, stuff that makes your skin uncomfy and your body crawl. write about your cat and the rug and un-deep fake-deep terrible stuff. go through a micro-poetry spell, go through a prose-poetry spell, fish the bottom of the box for x-ray goggles and write about how the cereal felt. write things too enigmatic forget what you wrote them about, but tell yourself it’s for the best. write things that feel grown-up and unfamiliar, too formal to function, up-their-own-asses. write things that feel childish and use so much rhyme it throws you out of it. write things that end in “a sljflk jfg h” because they petered out while you were typing. write stuff so bad you can’t help groaning. accidentally become bukowski for a hot sec, grow out of it. fall in and out of love with contractions. utilize the word utilize where it don’t belong. then write the language of talking to your dog, then write the language of high school essays on books you never finished. write in the language of flaubert, then dickens, then the language your father used before he learned english. , cut & paste grammar (? who gives a shit ?), r3inv3nt so much u come back 2 l33t speak, dial it down a bit. USE ONLY CAPITAL LETTERS BECAUSE YOU’VE GOT A SCREAM TRAPPED UNDER YOUR FINGERNAILS. use too many undercase letters because you’re pretentious. write yourself a star and eat it, tinfoil-tasting, on the floor of your kitchen, while you regret missing your mother’s cooking. write about the space between two people in a small room, write about the space that is too small no matter how big it is, write about the space that is too big no matter how small it is.

and space write about space over and over in sixty iterations of it, write about star-blood and star-crossed and star-glowing, write about universes and galaxies and gladiators in constellations. write about cigarettes and getting high and kissing the wrong person. write about the flowers in your ribs and the stain of your fingertips and the skin of your knees.