Perception

How, good Sir, can i communicate my perception of myself, when I’m near you. How do I behave, according to plan When you skew The epitome of me. Myself, and my ability To decipher why you’re here With me.

Moments of Glory

“I went to the woods to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.” We arrived after dark, fell into the pillow top mattress, cracked a beer and... Continue Reading →

What Brought You Here

A lifetime of proposing, An insight, or two. A conundrum of confounding confrontations— Saliva, sativa and sanctuary, To name a few. I put a few specimens into my files, Exposed my abilities, To explain a lack of explanation. I found that I shouldn’t breach my contract, With me, myself, and... You. What brought you here?... Continue Reading →

Learning To Dance

There are rules I’ve never pondered, And beats I’ve never addressed Left Together Right Together I always seem to miss. * Yesterday’s song was abominable, And my feet, no—my spine was inhospitable. Left Together Right Together And in my stumbles, my sciatic schisms, I materialize perfect delusions Right Together * Serendipitously serenading the floors, my... Continue Reading →

Thirty-Four And Fragile

Calloused hands don’t determine the dexterity, one has to offer. Tan lines on imperfect bodies are hard to swallow. Similar journey’s began untarnished, ignorant and lackadaisical. Later Quests fulfilled with a variety of abandonment and astonishments. I’d rather life start taking body parts, dismembering my heart first.

Simply Sexless

When you have no desire to just fuck. Conquests become less and less Occasionally left to ponder, and second-guess My pill-pusher’s reassurance, “You need this.“

Chest Pains

Pop a Xanax. Out of my Zoloft Pop a Xanax. Out of whiskey Pop a Xanax. Desiring toxicity Pop a xanny. Crying because... I popped a xanny.

Statistically Stagnant

Yet, I surmise, I'm subjective. Selectively enclosed in a soft shell of a shrine I've studied for years--shuddering amongst the lies of myself and others. Silence is suggestive, occasionally, and I surround myself with sorrowful shadows of past and present, salacious endeavors. And, I still surmise, I'm sensationally objective . Serenading the symbols and symptoms... Continue Reading →

Comfort Food:Part 2; Friendsgiving

It's my first Thanksgiving Without Mom. I made her casserole Without qualm 30 minutes foiled Without time. 45 uncovered Without rhyme. Bottom, left hand corner Without fail-- I tasted, moms wisdom Without curtail. I'll always love to cook Without her But eating, I don't like Without him.

“Comfort” Food

Food has always been a touchy subject in my life. Early in life, I struggled with my weight and have never, truly felt comfortable in my own skin. For over a decade, I typically refused to eat in public. Even at 130 pounds, I was so obsessed with not eating around my friends that I... Continue Reading →

Just Cry

Sometimes, I just cry. Even on my meds. Little things-- Mom's granola bar, 10 months past expiration. His invitations My fur-babies. My refrigerator My 600lb life. Out of Xanax. Out of money. Out of family. Just cry, baby girl. Just cry.

Make Me Fade

Static on the line, I hear it all the time But I'm quiet when you make me fade Feel it coming back, watch it turn to black But I'm brighter when you make me fade You make me fade, you make me fade You make me brighter when you make me fade KFlay has consistently... Continue Reading →

My Last Oil Change

Was over a year ago. 2006 Silver Saturn Vue-- And by the way, That's my usual level Of gas, In my tank. My output was 60 hours My input valued at 12. But that's positive, Unusual. She started making Noises, Similar to... My mother-- That ball rattling, Up the cylinder, with every inhale, Hard suck.... Continue Reading →

Pins, Needles and Night Sweats

When was the last time I pondered my physical comfort in regards to my mental state? NeverCan you ever be clear-headed when depression and anxiety transcend and gyrate? DoubtfulIt seems, these tingles--the pins and needles are a substrate, commingling with my nerves. MenacingWaking, just to ponder the discomforting sweats, days after my last drops were... Continue Reading →

Such a Silly Fucking Girl

With your stolen pants. With your sideways glance With your resting bitch face Such a silly fucking girl-- With your thick eye liner With your unhealed shiner With your need for personal space Such a silly fucking girl-- With your sad blue eyes With your evening cries With your busted, breaking, broken heart. Such as... Continue Reading →

Insecure In My Insecurities

I'm learning to love myself again, again. Again. But it's doubtful I'll ever be comfortable in my own skin. Confusion Is insurmountable, because I have been adored at times Ultimately, I'll slip back into my unprecedented confines. Intimately, Acknowledging every inadequate body and smile line.. It's asinine.      

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