It’s tiresome sometimes

Do not measure
in time, nor weight.
So many rules and
social contracts and
arguments over
self-inflicted constraints.
Who cares if they
don’t answer ASAP?
Give each other space.
Who cares if they
wear the same clothes?
Celebrate each other.
Who cares if they
step away?
Encourage growth.
These days 24/7 access
taints friendship,
so that friendship
is synonymous with
Each movement tracked
complied into receipts;
I just…

It’s not the charm

There, in a little cafe
across from me,
sits the boy who
wants me.
He’s waiting for me
reading a book on
Roman history.
Thick brows furrow over
a fact he’ll later teach me.
He’s handsome in an
old-school, brown-eyed
arrogant Roman way.
Smart, a little awkward,
but he’s kind,
and he called me beautiful —
God, I almost lost my lunch.
Gorgeous was even worse.
I don’t like how he kisses,
and his hands feel strange on me.
I’ll give today another try
to see if I feel any different
and if not, I’ll let him know
I can’t let you go.

© J.R. Sonder

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Today, I am angry

It’s odd, the pleasure that
derives from thoughts like this.
What I would give
to watch fire rise
in your body.
For you to huff and puff, and
steam to scream for your ears.
For your mouth to roar at me,
at him.
What I would give
to watch you watch me
with him, helpless.
To try and stop…

J.R. Sonder

Tea loving Sydney sider eternally and optimistically coping with writing.

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