refreshMan

For a time,
i bloom to one piece.
In a shape of love.

home again

I see the road to home again.

it's course and cruel and hagged

i see the road to home, again.

It's lackluster, it's comforting smooth and hollow.

I borrow these painful shoes

from My Mother, they don't feel right

I feel as though they cause my feet to put one

footstep print in front of another

Creating trails, deep prints that never should have

been made,

be walked, by no creature, no poet, certainly no child.

last ride

I thought this was my last ride
I threw my shit away
I thought it was my last ride
I threw it all away

da truth

Pleasant, dark stormy nights with consistent, gentle rain is nature taking its medicine for manic-depression.

quote from "Paths of Glory" by Jeffrey Archer

"You are of the opinion that that clever women, the ones with degrees from Oxford and Cambridge, should be given the vote?"
"No, sir, that is not what I was proposing," said George. "I believe that the same rule should apply to women as it does to men. The stupid ones should get a vote as well."

slash

grapefruit-colored chopped comet spattered pattern
XANAX RASHES UP MY WIRST, EYES CLOTTED BY POT-STOPPED TEARS.

x evidence

There are stains on my carpet from sweat, fire, ash and tears.
My mirrors are cracked and my stories full of holes I don't like being filled.
The blood stains are the spots that never leave my skin.
The spots of exhaustion of yearning, different from solitude.
Seen behind my glares and indifference in short timed pools of reflections.

cyclical soul -bottom Numbness

Out of Respect
I exclude myself from my
Usual exclusion. The
carefully-layered, spine-breaking

diy-Dug bunker of cyclical soul-bottom Numbness
to breathe a sigh of relief

but the sigh is a stab
cutting me deep
I'm exhaling just because,
somehow, the pain is lenient, lets
me breathe.

Sadness and the Visual
embrace of your deep, watering eyes
pierces my mind whether my eyes are open or slammed shut.

I may be lost to you but
I let you enter and hurt me with
your unintentional memories shaped
like out-of-body streaming media.

twothousands

twothousands ut seems everyone is afraid of showing what they wrote lately in twothousands like a virus. That's why I wanted to put my twothousands together)
twothousands
my thoughts are strung out and perplexing
my minds signed, left on its sabbatical
won't be back to see the paperwork there are dishes to do and children to pet and in this fucked up situation I'd be blind if I was not upset.
Black op cops pimped out chameleons stenciled against once trusted pink walls. I am alone and in company but right now I shiver wondering what I'd do if it was you who was the one to find me.

waves

If
I'm on a wave of uncertainty you're a
slave to eternity we're all inside this
crystal ball frozen getting shooken up
stopped and dropped then the warmth
of someone holding
us
even in motion paralyzed
Not in my hands or yours anymore,
rolling around left for uncertainty on the floor.

The voices never told you

The voices are talking all the time it's when they're not talking and
its quiet i go with the flow make choices and relax, lean back on this sundial.
Twisted black and white sundial of mine.

a drop of oil in watercolor rainbow water

Oh beggars can't be choosers,
But choosers sure know how to beg.

My minds awrap round so many dreams,
Can I just live these life scenes?
Without all these swirling, burning visions in my head.

contact

Tiny, tiny tight woven tendrils
fierce, relaxed human contact at first light.
Delicate embrace chemical-laced moment
breath well spent, felt and drawn.

Destiny, Destiny!

Destiny, Destiny!
You play me every day like I'm a trip hop synth,
uneven melodies and strawberry jam sweetness.
I mirror my own string puppet show,
wanting to be graceful like strings can contort.

Destiny, Destiny!
The days are rolling fast off my tongue,
a violent wheel runs faster, runs me farther.
Sticky and sweet morning,
watery sunrise light a vagary.

Destiny! is a silly lost bird face planting my window at dawn.
Senses are mixed and subtle,
my sight is waxy and determined to be busy.
The line between slavery and freedom is warped.

Visions of conjoined twins

He waits in lines,
she waits in circles.

You're a junky wripped from my chest
Like we were conjoined twins sharing one heart,
one pair of lungs and you were the twin that had the mouth and
the smile and the face looking outward.
I just focused on the heart begged it not to stop for you, not for me,
I forgot it was mine, too.

I just remember sounds, non significant underwater murmurs,
concentrating on keeping you afloat with breath.

Ya, I'd like a flower for that.
Maybe a plant? Or we could go to the beach and collect shells?

Maybe one day you would actually walk my pace in public and look at me like
Im not some brand you trust but a person.

who thinks I want a diamond ring, a diamond dildo I don't fucking know, some stuff.
Still waiting for you to walk next to me in public
Or kiss me when I am totally awake

Or catch me staring at you, for once
You've never dreamed of me like I dreamed of you.

You happened without Me

You busied yourself,
rubbing my feet,
softening my step.

Adoring me, not in
love with me.

Worshipping me, while listening,
with the best intentions, does
not Solve a Dam thing.

I was determined to be made of steel,
to both Love you and Tough love you.

My head, my body could not do it
anymore. I never wanted to be frustrated,
it hurt
everything inside of me for you to disappoint me.

Day to day piled up to weeks and weeks.
They looked the same with you.
I was exhausted of resenting you,
sick from trying not to.

My hopes died and I gave up.
Empathy for you
kept me from breaking down.

My feelings for everyone and everything
paralyzed
and rotted away.

I dealt with it by keeping going.
I didn't think there was anything to
talk about,
my capacities concerning
you
had recently Died.

I just wanted to master this new
consistent family life embrace.
My whole spirit couldn't be the only
one
trying,
anymore-

you didn't notice?

... well, Fuck me.

Concrete avalanche

Distracted by distractions
It's loud in here, alone.

My thoughts are perceived and
expressed in sporadic shuffle order,
No matter how much power I put into it,

I think like an unreliable machine,
the batteries low, the content too complex.
Shuffle order my life, this day, this minute-how to fill it?

Last hour my life was over and this hour my life began and in
fifteen minutes I will be consumed by a latent,
Unplanned desire. Is it lack of will or lack of heart?

Come find me when you love yourself,
when you see as much love in You as
Love you have to give.

what I Decline to admit emotionally
solidifies and returns when a striking point is
identified. I am given away to the wim of
Pain from unconscious volatility.

Distracted does little
my fragile emotional nescience
physically tortures me without a source.

I was that tough, well, that much
in Fear that my
assumed- to- be- stable-sole-family partner.
Shattered me, hell, maybe focused me finally, illusions
shredded to shame you took the knife that sat between us
and cut and cut and tore and teared upon
the miles and miles of rope bridges I made, over time,
to walk to you, to get to you, to get you.

Bridges of trust were left open to you
My fault because I forgot I was not tough.
I'd been struggling for months to stand up
on my own.
For you, too.
Did you need me to be down to want you?

I was climbing, falling, assembling and maintaining all the time.
No matter what I did your hunger constantly spoke to me.

I wanted to feel safe, figure things out.
You showed no concern for me.
Sorry, I wanted to go on a date with you.
I wanted you to want me to feel secure, feel hopeful.
I pretended you did and often when I glimpsed you
were not going to sweep me off my feet or even consider it.
I cried.

I'm just a girl and I needed someone
that held my hand and took me somewhere.
And whose actions more than words proved to me;
Everything was going to be OK.

sister wordle

text line 1

dots ellipsis i-lip-sis noun omission printing text used words writing

created at TagCrowd.com

Just One Part

The hardest part- and I’ve realized recently that there is only just one,

is
accepting that we are all flawed.

It’s the outline of the human condition:

the basis for every good story-

needs the pain of the protagonist screaming into the bitter,
night air with no one returning her cries,
with not even one star blinking from above.

We need
the lowest of the low within each of us
to find
the deepest,
and the saddest
and the thickest
behind the low
in every
one else.

That’s when we realize we aren’t alone.

Even Alive in Wonderland missed perfection.

She had her fears and her constant stream of tears,
she wasn’t happy being too tall and
she wasn’t happy being too small.

The best rhymes don’t have an end.

The best part -and I’ve realized recently that there is only just one,

is
waking up from on top of the broken looking glass.

It’s remembering the reality that brought you to that first dream.

Then you stand up in your shattered pile
and let the broken pieces be seen,

You know you aren’t the only one
who has ever slipped down the rabbit hole.

Thanks Bukowski

I was shivering in a heated room-
- the best stories are a cliché from the start.

But before I begin I really must thank Bukowski

for unblocking me. Dead.

If he were here, he’d look up from the other side of the couch,
his hair shiny with sweat and oil,
cigarette burning down and drink freshly chilled,

‘You should’ve seen me in the 70’s, I unblocked a new pussy
every hour.’

I’d be uncomfortable but still smile.

No one (not even Bukowski) should say ‘pussy’ at ten AM on a Tuesday.

I’d tell him, ‘Well I always remember to pull you out during the hardest times.’

He would’ve been King of “That’s What She Said’.

I hadn’t written in weeks.

But I was drinking and smoking more.

And to him that’s all that a great writer needed to do in order to succeed.
The secret to his success was excess and fragment sentences.

Emily Dickinson had loneliness down to a science;
Sylvia Plath owned and operated hyphens.

‘Fall in love soon,’ he’d remind me. ‘The sooner the better so you can learn to loathe it.’

I added to my To-Do list.

If he were here, I’d shove him with my foot and light his cigarette.

“I’m here, thinking about my future…you should listen.
I could end up at a crossroads at the end of all this.”

His glazed green eyes would roll over at me.

“Babe, you need to pay closer attention,
no one ever said life starts and ends on a straight line.”

purple sleet

The dark is too bright the light too harsh from shadows
Dope sick empathy burns a fist sized hole in my lower intestines
Its like a bullet wound the size of a cannon ball
Mental health is a recreational habit
Let me linger, let my shell stay firm, let me stay and feel this
animal bouncing and shrieking on my ovaries
and cutting slits, reflectively, in my stomach like a paper snowflake.