top of page

o·pen

  • Writer: Ryan Schwaar
    Ryan Schwaar
  • Nov 22, 2022
  • 1 min read

April 22, I slept with my window open And woke up to summer. For the rest of the morning I heard garbagemen shouting incantations over the Gregorian humming of their instruments The rain responded, joining the chorus of sporadic beeping and splashing puddles, turning the bricks from terra cotta to mud, Forcing me to dig through my memory to recall the luminescence, the songs of summer to which I awoke.

Recent Posts

See All
masks

I’d like to think that I’ll go on a date and this will happen: my date will be wearing a mask because he’s very responsible, and I will...

 
 
 
hav·​ing dat·ed

I hate having dated Hate knowing what could have been If not for me Or not their fire If not for fire or lack thereof. If not for me, we...

 
 
 
fluf•fing, 12

Have you ever thought about whether you’re trustworthy? I would understand if people don’t trust Me at first; I talk a lot and look like...

 
 
 

Comentarios


plantery.jpg

Pursuing radical honesty, is that bad

This is for me. 
But I hope you
like it too. 

Wanna chat or debrief? I love that crap.

© 2021 by Ryan S. Proudly created with Wix.com

bottom of page