I looked at my own photograph
& the girl I saw looked terrified
of herself
Thursday, May 5 2022
Kitty's Quotes and the late night write by me, life, my original quotes, notes, one liners, oneliners, poem, poetry, quotes, short creative writing, struggling 4:17 am
Demon Saturday, Feb 29 2020
life is a jumbled poem and men suck and the late night write break ups, couples, drunkiegail, emotions, fighting, insomnia, life, men, men suck, poem, poetry, rage, rant, short creative writing, short except of my life, struggling, wine, writting 5:20 am
Your words in my head are still ringing
you called me a demon
but I’m still Feenin
for those hands
those arms that hug
simultaneously Crushing My Heart
You tore us apart
It wasn’t the drink
It was the emptiness
Not in a cup
but all of your love
A box with nothing inside
I may be the demon
But at least I dont hide
My sharper parts
They were on my head from the get go
You just didn’t wanna see them
You wanted to grind them down
So I fit neatly into that empty box
Well I am a demon
I’ll be the night
I’ll scare the good girls
And bite the hand that feeds
I’ll be be me
And to that I’ll raise a glass
To the nightmares I hope you’re having too
you made the choice
now you have to see this through
you were the one that left me
and with clawed hands I’ll be the demon writing poetry
Music, mist, and a long commute. Wednesday, Feb 26 2020
life is a jumbled poem and storys city style, emotions, in the moment writting, life, misty whether, music, mycity, nostalgia, passing thoughts, poem, poems, sad, short creative writing, short except of my life, songs, storys, struggling, subway, writting 4:52 pm
Its raining in Brooklyn and I’m walking to the train
It’s not heavy rain
It’s the kind of mist you dont feel until it rolls down your cheek
I’m listening to an old playlist
Sometimes you need the music of you’re youth
For me that was a wide range
Some of it I’d already missed but non the less were playing just as loud and often in my road trip of life
I watch my train leave me behind on its elevated track
I skip All American rejects
Swing swing is too upbeat for someone now late for work
As the sounds of a strumming guitar starts I consider skipping again
But I cant do that to stevie
My mom loved Stevie Nicks
And I over many house cleaning jams outs
And viewings of practical magic with her and my sister
I learned of her musics soothing and emotion invoking power
As if you ever did belive comes to a close
I swipe my metro and begin my decent into the subway station
Stevie leaves my ears and my hood falls from my head
I wipe the mist from my glasses
As I do this I realize I’ve been crying
I’m still crying
I didn’t even notice
a short Jewish woman is looking at me
the next train isnt comming for 7 minutes
And I’m not sure why I’m crying but now that my brain is aware my body is holding nothing back
I’m sobbing in ernest and it isnt quiet
It’s that hiccuping cry like all my sobs were late to the party and are now trampling over each other to get out first
I’m about to give in and be that outwardly emotional rider makeing everyone’s commute uncomfortable when faith hill comes on
This kiss in all its upbeat glory is blasting goofy nostalgic memories into my head and now not only am I crying
I’m crying while laughing
I’ve good from emotional to borderline villainy in the eyes of the my fellow commuters on the platform
This is going to be a long ride
Tell me The story Tuesday, Feb 25 2020
life is a jumbled poem and men suck alchohol abuse, blackout, break ups, consequences, couples, drunk, emotions, fallout, fights, forgotten storms, fuck you, I'm scared, lessions, life, lost nights, love, men suck, numb, poetry, short except of my life, storys 9:06 pm
Bitch
Fucking bitch
Fuck you bitch
Ok now that it’s out in the air can you please tell me about last night
Could we start at the beginning
Before the part where you broke the door
Before the part where I broke the rig
I know we hugged
I know you held me
But then I lose the middle bits
I drank the dregs and lost the best part
I know you hate me today but you were the only one there last night
Only you know the answer to my questions so please stop screaming
I’ll be the villain but I need to know the story
Please tell me me the story
There has to be more to the story
He told me to write it down Sunday, Feb 2 2020
life is a jumbled poem anger, communication, in the moment writting, lessions, life, mental helth, rants, sad, short except of my life, trust issues 11:23 pm
Some people have a really hard time talking about their REAL feeling. it’s easy to blame work or stress or just go right to I’m fine but it can feel like pulling your tooth out to say words describing what you have been so fervently pushing down. It takes a rare circumstance. when you are with the right person and it’s that time. when you either can’t hold in anymore or a leak as sprong forth from your lips. that heavy and precious truth is hard for some to release and devastating when weaponized. these things can make wild animals of us, backed into a corner hurt and ready to sever any hand that would dare to reach out for us. this may sound poetic but I write best when sad or angry and right now I am both. this is not a poem it is a valuable lesson that friends, family, and lovers need to know when trying to communicate important issues with those in their life with trust issues, the ones who cant raise as easily from their beds and say all too often I’m fine to the ones who cared enough for them to ask. words have power, keep them, and use them with care.
-Asl
late night write 2020 Monday, Jan 6 2020
life is a jumbled poem and life stuff and the late night write life, memorys, moving forward, notebooks, rants, short except of my life, shorts, writting 5:38 am
I know, I know, I should write more.
I used to think id be an author, now I barely keep a notebook.
I picked up an old one the other day,
it had some gems.
one line in the middle of a page just read:
I want a man that will look at me and call me ravaging.
on the next three pages, I just complained about my boss not taking me seriously and work.
now though, now sometimes I WordPress.
I have followers now, that’s weird.
also, thank you? 4th wall braking?
I made this 10 years ago when I moved and lost three full notebooks to a clearly aggressive bottle of shampoo.
I try not to go back and re-read on here,
for many reasons.
least of all spelling…
I just wish I stuck to my goals more.
writing grows yano?
you gotta feed it.
so ill do my best with my notebooks, and here.
thanks to all the people reading these,
thanks and sorry for the crappy writing.
In my head I’m a Writer Friday, Jun 7 2019
life is a jumbled poem and the late night write and tok@gail insanity, life, notes, poetry, shorts, wine 4:12 am
I, in my head, was a writer.
Though not on paper, on paper I was A mad woman.
A sullen teenager, crying my woes into a stream.
A 29 year old, drunk, stoned and nostalgic.
But in my head I’m a writer.
27: lamenting 26 Wednesday, May 17 2017
life is a jumbled poem and the late night write birthdays, Irl Writing desk, life, poems, the late night write 5:06 am
[Easy to read, not my chiken scratch version.]
33 minutes ago was my
Birthday
I am awake at 12:34 p.m.
feeling remorse for 26.
great lines for five or six different poems, Clouding my brain.
none of them correlate and all are unfinished.
barely a thought.
I know you want me to say I’ll get through it, I’ll be okay.
Maybe I’ll be okay, it doesn’t feel like it but I’m not a doctor.
I didn’t finish school, I can’t finish this poem and I’m still awake.
27 unfinished, alone and awake.
happy birthday Abby.
-AsL
=^.^=©
I tried. Thursday, Apr 27 2017
the late night write life, rubbish, shit writing., sorrydearreaders, the late night write 9:18 am
I was inspired, and I had the right fule. My fingers couldn’t keep up. All the books and paper have been boxes and I’m dammed to this screen. So I’m conclusion I tried to write, it was to be something worth reading as well but I’m sorry readers. Tonight I can’t make you a grate vison. I can’t pull from my soul a dark poem or two. I have no story’s to tell not even one tail and I definitely cannot give you a novel. Sadly I don’t even have a one liner for you, not even a limric. So I’m sorry my readers, I did try.
A
=^.^=©
climbing while question, a late night rant. Wednesday, Mar 29 2017
life stuff and the late night write life, metaphor, seeking change, struggling 4:16 am
Feeling really caught in the middle lately guys. I suppose the middle is better than the bottom and I should be grateful I’m not down there anymore. Things did get rough for awhile but I’m climbing out, to the middle. I guess I’m just kinda confused and tired of this whole thing called life and how it works. Give what get what and for what and why? I deffintly think to much, if I can’t really do much, at least I can think. What I’m getting at is that life is hard and the way it works makes no God damn sense! I’m sick of thinking about it and working threw it. Time to change some shit, big shit, that we can only do together. Or we keep climbing and falling untill one or two of us make it to the top and inevitably kick rocks down at the other ones. Humans suck, end of rant.
the writing desk 