Thank You Time For Passing

I prefer
My life
Without unbearable
Longing

Circling Birds

I’m really frightened of being alone. Especially at night. That’s when I wish I had that extra attention. And if it’s a man, looking to get off, that works. In fact, it’s a sure bet really. Isnt it? Not good for me. It’s good for me that it’s so much less. I don’t seem to have it in me anymore. That rush of knowing a new person, being pursued by a new person. I guess when you have a few bad outcomes under your belt, you aren’t as eager to go back. But then here I am. middle of the night lonely. And why does that type of lonely always settle in your pussy? If the pussy is happy, I’ll be happy.  My life is working really well with my love and Big Daddy. The medications are working. Some positive money stuff is approaching, hopefully. Sure, I’m smoking so much, its insane. And the eating. Dont forget the eating. The body aches, like a new injury every week. It’s so quiet. Sometimes the understanding is so close. Then, its gone again. (I’m scared I can’t write anymore because of my medication.) I told everyone is was a fluke. No one listened.  I am not a very good mom. I see a list a mile long of things I could be doing, giving them. I would rather die than have them think they aren’t worth every drop of my blood, every breath I take or word I write. They are everything. I hate being alone. Who needs these thoughts? Like, the sometimes man. Was that even real? Was that year of my life real? And Marian? Was she real? Is there a person out there with jewel eyes that really contains such a combination of whimsy and hard edge? I always make such bad fucking choices with abandonment, like being the risk taker is something enviable. I would give it immediately if it was worth getting. I wish I was 17 people and none of them did drugs to excess and ate to excess and hid from people and was lazy and cranky and short-tempered and slutty and glass wicked empty.  I wish I didn’t feel so fucking alone. I wish I didn’t question that a collection of molecules such as life even exists, I don’t want to care about which word is placed where and what should I wear and whats my next thing and whats my excuse and whats my rationalization and what more do I need, what reward do I demand, what price do I pay, what dowry do I come with? Can you see me wrestling with this part of myself? Or am I wrestling to beat the medication, my sickness, my demons so strong and engrained, God you could have at least made me beautiful since you made me so crazy, you could have at least made me successful in a career or a perfect mother or a social butterfly, but instead I’m just crazy. Its quiet. I have my fans, and my blankets and my babies sleeping tight in the other room. One has fine, blond hair and hazel eyes, the other, thick brown hair and brown eyes. There is milk for cereal and a bottle. My husband has more work lately, and he loves me. And I love him. I have Big Daddy. And I love him. I have my family, repaired friendships. Jesus Christ, where do I get off being such a sad sack? It’s this lingering, this nagging knowledge that what I have, others have more or better. It’s this feeling that I’m not where I belong. There is more I am supposed to be, or suppose to do. The wrong path, I don’t even recognize the planet I’m on. I’m an alien and I wandered into the wrong fucking place. But these are my babies, this is my life, stop this questioning for no reason. I can’t, what if there is something else I should be doing and I don’t do it and something terrible happens, I miss my boat, I die.

First Words

You are insane.
Can I touch you now?

Betrayal

I bet you don’t even sleep with a fan on,
do you?
I’m remembering everything as meaningless.

Still Leave Me Wondering

Did you really befall?
Did I build you, a castle in the air
An ice carving
Your words still leave me wondering

Wear A Veil For You/Its Your Number Gets Dialed

All I do is pine
I’m a regular mourner
In black, inside, in
Back, wear a veil for you, will
dirges cease grant me release

When chance would have it
The button press does it in
Pocket or purse, like
Under reverse I really did
Delete he, misdials seek me

Final Curtain

Reaching out
Just one more time
Seems to be
UnAvoidable

But this time
From the ground up
Please bash
Baseball bat again

Sleep will

do

good.

Still a chestAche I don’t need.
Still the words that make me bleed
Are you smug in your knowledge? Or are you sparse…

There is something, you
Something no one else has
A gem of divine design.

I wish to possess that ipseity that is a million bricks of you.
Why don’t you
Wish that of me too?

The tone when you said those words, when you whispered those words, demanded of me greatest gifts and took of them obsessively, with love and charm, practiced at keeping such a secret as a motley love of ether and words.

I only want the forever things.

No one sees you with my eyes
Your brilliance
No one sees me with your eyes
My brilliance

Offer market value steps, crept in
Weakened time, I wept.
Extension, mutual torture.

Quit you for a month before,
Now I quit you once more

Is this really goodbye, only if now

you don’t change your ways, dont beckon me stay,

initiating conversation, charming words that drip.

This is the definition of asunder
Hostage to what could be’s assimilated with our clever what are’s
What colour would our paints mixed make.

The most I love you in this life
She must be a wonderful wife.

The most I love this life, as you do
I am his wonderful wife too.

Stuck & Stretching

I can’t
Let go, I can’t
Let go, it felt SO good
I fight for what I want. Guess I’m
Juvenile

Bedevil Prostration

The full moon is
In a day sky
You pat my disease on the head
Aint she cute

box, clashy glassy

doors I abhor
a different animal altogether
disaster stone cracked back
doors I abhor

no more certifications
underlined in blue
shatter sitting-flopped vitrine

chase me, it turns out
I’m tickets to a side-show
a bench alongside a car wreck

I’m not in between raindrops
But seeping in the stone
Sleeping all alone
In inner recesses and natural tunnels
In a man gave manipulation
Sand and stone

Notice the lack of umbrella
No graceful palm leaf cover
No artificial swatch of sky
No sleep
No wake

Pat me

Just the receiver of the same
Rain.

Contumacious

The girls are
Cutely pathetic
In your bitter universe.

A broad doesn’t stand a chance.