Paper Boats and Aeroplanes
things that inspire my flights of fancy

morning after

thoughts about the impermanence of a hook up written in permanent marker in the places he touched

 by Lindsay Bottos

(via ideal-ideolog-y)


Forget about his hands.
Yes, they are beautiful.
Yes, they are large and strong
and full of callus.

Yes, they made mincemeat
out of you.


Put your bitterness away.
You have carried it around so long
your eyes have turned to brine.


When he tries to welcome himself
into your new apartment, lock the door.

When he tries to welcome himself
into your liquor cabinet, send him home.

When he tries to welcome himself
into your body, call the police.

Tell them this is not his first offense.


Call your mother.
She coughs and sputters and
talks over you. Call her anyway.

Use the telephone connection
like an umbilical cord.

Remember that you are the
only person who knows what her 
heart sounds like from the inside.


Go outside.
Eat a picnic of mango
and Dr Pepper.

Allow the heat to melt your
hardness into jelly.


When the shy boy from Apartment B
asks you out to dinner, say yes.

Order anything but salad.

Kiss him goodnight.

Say thank you.


Read the books on the living room
shelf, and the ones in the closet,
and the ones under your bed.

Lose yourself in things other than
a stranger’s mouth.


Adopt a cat.


When your friends complain
that you are anti-social,
draw the blinds, put your phone
on silent, cocoon yourself in
blankets and drink hot chocolate.

Enjoy every minute of it.


Sleep in as long as you want,
but still leave time for painting.

Leave time for being productive.


Learn to love yourself 
like it is the hardest math equation
you’ve ever been asked to solve.


Learn to love yourself like 
no one will ever do it any better.

No one will.

via http://five—a—