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Writing Blog 3

I Practice Attachment

Roderick Campbell

by Janne Robinson

I practice attachment.

I practice living with my heart wide open and feeling the surplus of joy and sadness that it comes with each day, rawly.

I fall in love with someone’s heart at least once a day.

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I Am Afraid Of Being Left

Roderick Campbell

by Janne Robinson

I am afraid of being left.

I’m not afraid of love, I’m afraid of loving so hard that I can be left, again.

I remember the moment I sat in green and wheatgrass fields at dusk in my father’s village in Tertsa, Greece, drinking water from the mountains. He broke the air filled with the singing of crickets to tell me that he had received the postcard my mom sent with a letter that I had been born.

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Charlie

Roderick Campbell

by Janne Robinson

A haze of tired faces
10 hours spent in traffic jams
Jesus, give us a break
the ‘stache of a 70s pornstar
shirt unbuttoned
gold rimmed glasses
bronzed chest
a triangle on his left arm

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Date A Woman Who Does What She Loves

Roderick Campbell

by Janne Robinson

Date a woman who takes espresso at dusk, passion fruit cheesecake before dinner and red wine with her fish.

Date a woman who would rather hitch hike, throw her thumb out and fall into the trust of strangers—fly through green hills with white cows and pink flowers as the sun beats and the dust bellows on the back of a motorcycle in a white sun hat.

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I Am Worthy (A Letter To Myself)

Roderick Campbell

by Janne Robinson

I am worthy of a love where a man only rushes from my side in the first white sheet crinkles of the morning to make me espresso.

I am worthy of foot massages with oils made from herbs grown in the wild, without the aid of chemicals—from the earth’s belly.

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I Am Sad This Morning

Roderick Campbell

by Janne Robinson

I am sad this morning
the yellow sunflowers are sad
my cold toes upon the hardwood floor are sad
the roses refuse to smell sweetly this morning
and my blue heart aches
for I am unable to open
I am unable to crack my heart in my chest for you

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Reclaiming Perfection

Roderick Campbell

by  Janne Robinson

I was interviewed this morning by Meena Avery of Impress me, Please?

On her podcast show we were talking about the word perfect.

I have a theory: we should all take the word “perfect,” throw it out the window and run over it a few times.

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At My Funeral There Will Be Sunflowers

Roderick Campbell

by Janne Robinson

At my funeral there will be sunflowers, yellow and heavy with joy.

I wish guests to wear white, and come barefoot.

I want Bluebird by Charles Bukowski read and good scotch—not necessarily expensive scotch, but scotch some may keep on a shelf, collecting dust, waiting for the perfect moment to breathe—if you’re into that sort of thing.

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