Letting Go of Gold

He said, “It maddens me.”
She said, “What does?”
He said, “He had gold in his hands and he let it go. I don’t understand people like that. When you find a treasure, you hold onto it.”
She said, “It just made me feel like I’m not that special. It was too easy to let me go.”

Except she didn’t say that last bit.


I wrote a poem. And then I filmed it. I filmed my mouth. But, for some reason, I cannot upload it. But I did it, Ace. I filmed a poem for you.

My poem. My mouth. Coming soon.


Have y’all been on Facebook?

Yes? You darlings!

No? Go here now. Please: INSERT LINK.


It’s almost 2am GMT+2. I am wearing a pink and burgundy blouse covered in butterflies. My floor is scattered with clothes. I am filled with gin. It is my bed-time. I hope you are smiling.


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I drink, I laugh, I smoke, I write.

7 thoughts on “Letting Go of Gold”

      1. So I startled awake last night at 3 am or so, with the horrible feeling that I had written, “I hope YOUR smiling” I’m very happy to find out that this isn’t the case. Grammatical errors are my version of nightmares.

  1. i wanna direct it!!! i can see it now in my mind’s eye! cannes, here we come! oh my, there are a lot of exclamation marks in this here comment!! one more for good measure!


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