There must be a way to both constrict and construct a mother:
From QR Codes to a Poetry Debut: Creating the intimate, distant, and exacting with Emily Marie Passos Duffy
“My favorite part is the flow, presence, and devotion that comes through making. There is lots of doubt, sure, and also a surrender — to a hope that no matter what happens it’s going to turn out as it’s meant to.”
A week ago, you bugged me—practically harassed me.
Memory doesn’t usually work in my favor.
I’m a disaster walking
down the street.
We humans, all so tastelessly mortal.
A beep—the sensor scans the chip in my arm, clocking me out for the day.
Depression convinced me to hole up in my apartment.
“Essentially, I’m inspired by the unheard, by those with a story to tell but who are often ignored or forgotten or even villainized for doing nothing but existing… Rage against justice not done and rage against the burying of stories untold is the true lifeblood of my work.”
Unfurl my warranted design and point towards
Send me seven
Moons and stars,
Baby blues are skies anew that simmer
I feel as if my lungs have collapsed.
To be able to write and draw was all that mattered to her.
So you’ll pass between a door and a door
Instrumental, we seem, to our own surmise.
Ethereal was the only way to describe what sat in the pit of my stomach.
It wasn’t the senseless loss of my own daily routine
I have worn your body
I’m so sick of the damn stress.
I’m sorry your mother hadn’t the backbone
Yesterday marked a new beginning.
In my room
in the dark,
I fall in love with souls
dyed the color of ebony
There is a group of people standing in the dark.
I write about what it’s like to exist every day.
She had always liked running through the field, feeling the wind as she ran
“I saw him once, the son of sirens. That’s all you ever need to go mad,”
I come up with the right ideas far too late.
March 8. Another typical boring day for some. And yet, for half the world,
THE GIRL: we’ve been here before- circle upon circle
I meet you for dinner once a month,
Venkat thrashed against the waves,
Caress caress caress caress caress caress
there are sections
to the cleaving
I don’t know if you’ll ever be what I can’t find,
The eyes can glaze a second death.
Grunge layered on pots I set out in August-
you can’t return the past–
Maybe it is as simple as everyone has told me: eat a good meal,
Brielle knew she could always count on music.
All through summer, Lily searched for butterflies.
The espresso machine behind the counter gurgles,
“With the rough rope against your neck, you’ll feel the floor give way,
Sometimes, when I go outside in the one-hundred-degree October heat,
My boyfriend takes care of me. He texts me when he’s out of the house.
the heat has devoured me;
Why don’t I go to a peninsula in Belize?
A doppelgänger moved into the spare bedroom.