Category Archives: #confession

BRAIN TRAFFIC

It’s a complicated world
ruled by pain and fear
Everything’s ‘will you swim
or will you fade’
the smallest things
hold us back
the madness outside
these walls
are nothing compared
to what’s within my halls

Brain traffic: s/o confused
grid-locked & neurotically fused
Drain my Soul
Brain traffic: over/used
fear-porn-fed till your dead
then Life’s on hold
it’s all Inside your head
BRAIN DEAD.

:: 03.27.2020 ::


WEB OF DECEIT

“I’ve always had an eating disordered. I use to blame it on stress…” A heavy pregnant pause hung above the room.

“But now I realize it was not who I am but what I am. I even use to blame my binges on how poorly I spin my web — but it is an automatic instinctual reaction.”

Taking off a pair of horn-rimmed glasses the fly, who never lost a patient, looked directly into the eyes of his patient the spider and gently spoke.

“Be who you are.”

-THE END-

:: 03.23.2020 ::


LYCANTHROPIC ME


WELCOME MY GHOSTS

THAT I have tried and succeeded is only in great measure

That you have been there with all my fears and displeasure.

Holding my cramped heart and swollen hands is how you have

Saved both my mind and spirit – the soul; still intact down

By the emptying rivers that lead to unexpected consequences.

And to weep while watching the death of a perfect day and to

Realize that birth was only half that day ago is sobering:

We watch each other’s eyes while laying on our sides and

Breathing in cadence I tell you that I am a fortunate peasant

And you the Queen who has welcomed by Ghosts.

:: 07-12-2017 ::


READY TO CONFESS

YOU say, ‘love, so be it’
and i will pretend i am
ready || you whisper
within hot skin ‘I want
to place all my secrets
within your heart’
until i get out of all
this mess//and if you say,
‘I’ll be here when you’re
ready, love.
When you’re ready
to confess.

:: 09-01-2015 ::


The Dinner Plate

the dinner plate
is quite empty
i sit here
contemplating
quietly awaiting
a meal for my soul
and thoughts
as clean as porcelain
invade me
the clarity of my mind
fed me!

::  03-10-2015 ::


METRO COUNTRY LANE IS HER NAME

It’s been some hurting time: I lost it in a dial of fountain garbage youth — catfish mouth hooks and I never saw you sorry inside
Boreas is colored freezer pain! I haven’t had a hand job or pie Since the government gave me opportunity or more chances than churches where Jesus hangs on solemn walls while
flesh bags cry and pray for all their sins in a covered wagon somewhere in the 1950s black and white television. Gee I never knew ancient ones wore makeup and butterfly Lips like a hungry flower in a whore field. The sky gave me her scars like purple vaginas missing periods for months.
And Billy went to the store to pick up a jar of fat pickles. She never reached behind the curtain but I had my dummy and a fist beneath his cheap shirt making all the moves of a failed life.

11-03-2014 ::


CARELESS WITH A DELICATE SOUL

AND the devil said, “Who’s got the heart
of my lover?” and the sky burned
in thunder-lust and the angels fled
like a bad bad storm.
I stood up like a prick and said,
“I ate him last night.”
And heaven help me for the way I am..
I am just a hungry woman looking for
the one who can help me know I am
more than this need I have within my soul.
So the devil looked inside my soul
and flew away, said, “honey, you got more
a need for the soul you ate
and I’m just the devil.”

I’ve been a bad bad girl
and I ran away the devil
but all I need is just
a good man.

:: 11-17-2014 ::


MY VEINS BLEEDING WORDS

1
I thrust my head upward
though skewered by
my sharply limping words
and see the prose in my veins
of the promise for clarity
in this wet bag of blood!
When does flesh ever know
purity when decay is it’s friend?
2
That I know when an eye sees
the setting of a sun
another sees it rise!
And what of love and death?
Does the same eye see heaven
while another hell which seems
to be all the same as the sun?
I believe the impossible is true.

3
And the parts of all of me too,
see long beginnings and someThing;
the abstract as if it were insight
by my own admission I am delusional
And time melts the salt from my tongue
Its vague touch asserts a personal nature
but I am not soulDead, it’s not for me
in the cosmic corner Jester cries

:: 11-08-2014 ::


W. E

W.   E
MU.   St
   NEVer
  B E

A
P
A   RT

:: 11-04-2014 ::