The Noresoup Jukebox

SZA - Crybaby stiff as a board, plain as a wall I grew up with you, I know you pretty well last I heard, you were stressed searching for a bar but you tell me your therapy sessions ended well must be heavy carrying a family on your back to be the head so young, too early and yet knowing there is no one else to do what must be done so you find other ways to walk through it you call me up most nights, other nights you're silent in your room I couldn't go a day without the knowing that I have you to go back to you scold me most days, you aren't gentle with your words but neither am I, so we work just swell together I ask you to marry me, and you shut my pleads down quickly quicker than the frustration that bubbles up in your chest when I say, with meekness, that I haven't been eating lately and I am not certain that this illness will rest you're quiet with your loving, stronger with your caring because last night you sent me a letter saying you loved me and wanted me t...

Joni Mitchell - California i dont know much about politics i was told it is my biggest fault well what if they knew, it's been a few weeks without their collective God my nose isn't used to the dust collecting from my lack of time or is it my laziness, regardless, forget daily chores,  i only know how to get by haven't talked to my mother since i moved out of my old apartment dote on me in long letters mum i do not have the life in me for short messages selfish to say i want more when love is so freely given to sit in front of my childhood God to try and lose myself in prayer  to feel my spirit might have gone and left my gut emptier if i lose God, i lose myself too  so i hardly know who shows up in the mirror how to say i am losing faith without inciting demonic fear in the other and my loss isn't honourable for in it's place isn't intellect  it isn't politics, neither clarity nor knowledge  a believer tells me to fast, survive on His love  an atheist says...

americano and latte with pizza saved for later this cafe couldn't be better than for convos with yepe i hate my hands! i wish they were softer more lady-like, lesser veins, fairer but i would not trade them or change them in any way for they may be manly but they are just like my father's my mother's hands are mine as well first thing she said when i understood her words she says they are reminiscent of a man's but no bigger blessing than to carry life with her hands sometimes i get angry most times i do too i get an awful lot angrier you do not understand, i do too i am pregnant with soft rage i wish i had grown up better but you have  but you know we missed homes where rage did not matter ah i forget, i have not been home since the spring set in i haven't been a child in a short while i tend to forget what it means may i be a child with you? i fear it is only you who understands can you hold my hands as we walk? could you take the lead till i have to leave? orders...

keep my father away from me i do not know how to be gentle like when he held his first baby his hands rough and slightly awkward softer as more came handling with much more ease but keep my father away from me i do not know how to get softer perhaps if i had two, maybe three i'd know how to be a kinder daughter but rage, it comes till it leaves so keep my father away from me i only have one but he has three he can pour all his love to the others i will survive, i have tougher, rougher skin I can make the mundane suffice so keep my father away from me.

the smell of peaches remind me of you  bachelors, third semester, your first bottle of perfume i love you because you are the smell of mint cigerettes  on a cold afternoon, and how when the dusk turns that dark blue it is you and I sharing a cup of tea in the kitchen, new lights, and you cried for me and when i got recommened  Dostoyevsky  how to tell them i read it in your voice and when i got to certain segments i could only remember your tangents, your noise (sorry Fyodor, meek is my memory i only remember what my love has narrated to me) i sit with your 15 year old self someone you forget so very often she softens at the thought of you growing, leaving our hometown, finding love, losing hope, making one for yourself i tell her, she's doing better now how to love if not by remembering for now, are we so far apart feels like yesterday when you were just a rickshaw ride away now we're stuck in towns that do not know how to be kinder well i survive because you loved ...

i like to think of myself sunny like when i first got my green jacket with fur funny like the taste of my first cheesecake not sweet like honey - sweeter like the kiwi juice my mom got from the dollar store cue Angie who helped me finish it all i like to see myself lovely like the rain that moistens the drought bubbly like cotton candy that disappears  in the mouth, lips sweeter than the words they make out but still, often ugly  if the waterworks start pouring down i wish i could split myself in two Norah full of rage Norah full of loveliness one shunned, the other exalted and i could give her to the world but i would swaddle my rage,  i would cradle her so soft and loving - only then would my rage know  what it is to be sunny, to be lovely to be rage, to still be loved despite 

Men I Trust - The Landkeeper i got up and felt like unripe cherries - sour and tart i had a cup of coffee it tasted like a mother's hug of which i can only imagine now empty stomach soothed once a day at 5 pm, when i remember i am still her daughter before then, psychedelic rock to keep me sane - i still have my father in my pocket this is all to say, i am not doing well but i carry love in all the empty spaces yesterday i slept feeling heavy like thick clouds, gray and unforgiving but i dreamt of Emmet, all my other brothers; like sun on cold skin if life was emptier then it is damper now from the laughter that shakes the stubborn clouds how do i make it simpler that i feel like i have walked into a busy kitchen as though the dull ache is from a heavy school bag i can hear my sister's piano - gymnopedie, erik satie i came to work livelier, pregnant with puerility and i went back home only half exhausted,  having dreamt better dreams my father likes yellow, there is turmeric in...