I'm Regina Small. I'm a writer and editor in NYC. I have a lot of opinions.
Interests include: sci-fi/fantasy, literature, summertime daydrinking, trying to be a better person, fancy manicures, philosophy, pictures for sad children, and the role of irony in the modern world. And fandom, of course.
I have another blog dedicated exclusively to science fiction/fantasy. Read it here.
I just realized that James Spader’s character in Secretary is named “Mr. Grey” and now I just feel vaguely irritated.
jaime would not rape cersei
the whole point of that fucking scene
is that she says yes
she says you’re home
she says you’re here
and then he fucks it up NOT BY FUCKING HER but by PROPOSING TO HER and telling her that they can replace their dead son with a new one
it’s not the sex that’s the problem it’s jaime’s newly arisen insecurity from his lack of a sword hand
THE WHOLE POINT IS THAT CERSEI SAYS YES
A poem in which I don’t compare
you to anything.
In which you are not an
elevator that I got stuck on,
or a train that never left,
but no more than a person.
No less than a person.
Today, you are not a mistake
or a rip in my tights or a lesson.
Today, I take myself home and undo,
I take myself home and
write a poem about my skin
for the third time in a row and
then wash myself in it until
I’m clean and new.
A poem for the first full month
that didn’t hear the ache
of your name,
and for every month after.
A poem in which I am singular.
A poem in which I am more than
the people who never wanted me,
and I know this.