The Downlow

My photo
austin, texas, United States
aspiring writer, English and journalism student, hails from Texas. likes include writing, coffee, books, whisky and people.

Monday, December 9, 2013

Black my lungs


Curly haired
James dean-frank Sinatra hybrid,
Stop calling me baby.
'Allie-cat'' everytime I walk down the hall
another blonde girl on your arm,
We are few and far between.
Stop calling me darling,
Everytime you light up
Your shitty l&m
Stop calling me honey,
Slinging shots in the back.
Curly haired wiry
Tattoo covered gangster,
Stop walking me home
You are bad for me.


That poem is mine.

Thursday, October 24, 2013

Don't leave me tounge tied

We stay up all night

Feeling horribly nostalgic.

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Fortune days

How fitting is it that this song reminds me of you?

Monday, September 30, 2013

Thursday, September 26, 2013

I had a heart then

''You're a cook in the bedroom and a whore in the kitchen''


Monday, September 16, 2013

can't do any more

What I've been up to lately —

I say to you as
we stand under rainclouds,
you with six pack in hand,
"kissing is just a touch
lips playing,
like talking
only closer,"
and you kiss me
since you just ate a meatball from your spaghetti
still tupperwared in my fridge.
You say, "kissing means something,"
hand resting on my hips,
mouth so close I catch
wafts of garlic.
I tell you,
other things do."


I had forgotten what it felt like,
nights alone with you —
I guess, not really alone,
they dance around us
"Baby you're the only live one in this club."
I had forgotten what it feels like
to be simple with you
to be alive with you
to be myself with you.
We drink and we fight
and we fuck and we laugh and
we cry.
Why did you remind me? ...
How did I forget?


And I am laying next to you now.
On my front porch,
and we've watched blues brothers
and you're smoking parliments
and you with your NPR and your
getting to me.
A Marlboro between my pointer and my middle finger
lights, cherry hot,
and you speak,
"You keep up with my rampant narcissism,
that's rare"
and I say
"Lets go to bed"
And I am laying next to you now.

I'm becoming too starry-eyed for my own good.

Saturday, August 17, 2013

Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Glove compartment

New writing spot for the win! Moved out of my first apartment, I'm feeling pretty nostalgic. We'll see what happens in this one.

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

You bought the dream

I am sandwiched between a punk rock waiter who is unsure of nothing except for a constant constraint to travel and a love of tattoos with a half hearted political agenda; a Marxist masochist who's only real truth is an intense refusal to admit his own possession of morals, who would rather sell himself short to give himself more time than commit himself to one of an envious amount of talents; and a bartender who has shrouded himself in static pseudo reality and is desperately slamming on the breaks before screeching head on into the real world before he has the chance to order another round.

Someone order me a lonestar and bum me a cigarette. This summer will be brutal and hot in more than one sense of the word, so I suppose I should try and be the same.


Monday, June 24, 2013

Alone again

'We're swimming around,
It's all I do when I'm with you.'


Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Had my cake, now

I gave you everything. Was it not enough?
This balcony is my only constant. One day you'll be sad you let me go.

Saturday, May 4, 2013

Thursday, April 11, 2013

Young blood

I'm perpetually getting myself into pickles.


Sunday, March 31, 2013

I'm waking up

I think I found what I need right now. If you believe in prayers then pray for me, if not then send me good vibes, it's whatever. Wrote a poem last night, I'll post it soon.


Thursday, March 28, 2013

Line of the century

Found a new writing spot on campus.


Tuesday, March 19, 2013

in my bones

Sometimes I wonder if this is what I'm supposed to be doing. I've never learned a thing in a journalism class but I'm fine at the paper. Class is never what made me a talented writer. I wonder if I'd be better off just stopping everything and finally writing. I know this sounds cliche but this isn't helping me, it's a detriment to my writing projects. I'm spending little to no time on them due to other obligations, but isn't my writing the reason I came to school in the first place? Maybe not everyone's meant for this. Maybe I could live without a degree. It's a strange thing to feel that your life is being dictated by a desire to meet other's expectations. Maybe everyone feels like this. Maybe this is just showing me who I really am and what I'm built for. I think at this point I'm keeping up this facade of being a student to keep this life, this lifestyle, to keep other people happy. I don't think I'm happy, and I'm certainly not flourishing here. I didn't come to college to take high school-esque classes on Shakespeare's word choice.

I feel like I'm waking up from a dream.

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Daylight could be so violent

I wrote a short story. I think the next two weeks will be crucial.


Sunday, January 27, 2013

I wanted you to know

The wait
Chest rising and falling
Your hair strewn out under a half-on hat,
Beard ruffled.
Me propped up on you,
Parks and Rec shining light off my MacBook,
Bouncing off your back,
Smoke wafting from incense
Filling the air next to Amy Poehler's voice.
In the morning we wake up, I make you pancakes,
Help you find your watch,
But for now you sleep
And I spend my time with Amy,
Leaning on you cradled,
Chest rising and falling.

That poem and that picture are mine. On another note, I feel alive.

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

smoking weed under star projectors

"The philosophers have only interpreted the world, in various ways; 
the point, however, is to change it."

Like Drake, I think I like who I'm becoming.
Much love,

Saturday, January 12, 2013


You show the lights that stop me,
turn to stone.
You shine it when I'm alone,
and so I tell myself that I'll be strong
and dreaming when they're gone,
cause they're calling me home

For all the good advice I've given, I have always been that girl.
Writing is elusive. Wish me luck.


p.s. I love Ellie

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

It's not a side effect

I'm in love.

Current likes/activities
Pleather jackets
Spending rent money on beers
Lemon water
Bars, as opposed to clubs
Bus rides

I love you. Go read Hemingway.