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Showing posts from October, 2019

Butterfly Guts

Those manufactured butterflies You put in my stomach Aren’t special If you place Fluttering cocoons Everywhere you go Like a child on Christmas Your eyes are wide with The next shiny package Before you have unwrapped The gift you already have Naked in your hands I’m a single woman In a world that wants to eat me A black widow That learned to take The first bite I am the one you want to lie to The one you want to leave The hell I’ve been through Warmed me and now I search for flames of relief When my residual heat Becomes just a repeat And my blaze Begins to freeze You’ll know this spider Digested the butterflies In her guts of fire

Moisturize

The best moisturizer Is made up Of makeup And tears A familiar taste Of abandonment Crosses the lips It brings a darker glow To the cheeks As the mascara runs The lipstick Seals it in With a kiss When the face is bare There is nothing left To hide from

A Miscarriage

I don’t remember taking the test, but I do remember knowing that I was pregnant very early, before I was even six weeks along. My first born was about fifteen months old, I was on birth control pills, and my ex husband was on cocaine. I did not want to be pregnant, but the world never gives you what you want, only what you need. I remember one night sitting out in the garage, alone. Crying. I did a lot of that during our marriage. I don’t have any memories of my ex being around too much at this time because he never was. He was always working, so I was left to deal with the realization that we were bringing another child into this world, all alone.  I was wrapped in grief and fear, crumbled on the cold concrete floor and I remember hitting myself in the stomach. One time. Was it hard enough to do damage? To this day, I wonder.  It was still too early on in the pregnancy to be seen by my OBGYN, but I already knew the first question I was going to ask. I don’t think I had a con

Money In The Grave

If I buy you a gift and you don’t use it, I can’t get mad at you. Throw it away. Regift it. Lock it away in a junk closet. How can I be upset if it is not your style, shape, or fit? The same is true of love. How can I be angry if you reject my love? Should that stop me from letting MY love loose? It can only put more goodness out there. So do I recycle it? Repair it? Reduce it? Or is my love simply money in the grave? Useless to everyone. I guess my love can just be the one you want to hear from the most, but never do.

Quiet Down

Quiet down While I drown In your crocodile tears And spit them in your face I will eat your lies Until I gag Digest them With the rest of your waste

Don’t

Don’t come back If you have a second thought If the items you see Aren’t what you first bought This flower doesn’t change Her spots If I don’t make the hair On your neck shiver The goosebumps quiver Don’t come back My hot Doesn’t run cold If you can’t paddle Through open water Into my deep end Then don’t come for a swim Stop playing with a woman You aren’t ready for Don’t come back If all you want Is a sip And a snack If I’m not worth The effort and setbacks Then tell me Why do you keep coming back

Life’s Lonely Friend

It is easy to cherish being alone Much harder to love being lonely We all just want to be chosen Like elementary students Waiting nervously to be picked For the team We all want to be The game changer Picked for each play Every scrimmage and practice Chosen for every win or loss Love is life’s lonely friend That always fouls out of the game I’m not trying out For this bullshit team Anymore I’d rather ride the bench Why am I waiting For someone to ask For a picture with me Instead of just one of my pussy Why am I waiting For someone to choose me I am the team captain And the entire first string Is in my mirrors reflection Maybe I’ll try a different sport One where there can actually Be a winner

Residual Heat

What I crave most Are the things I can not give myself Whispered commands Cannibalistic looks A hot breath On my neck Skipped heartbeats Microspasms In the pit Of my guts Mistaken for butterflies The scrape of teeth Against my skin The shiver That rides My spine A maybe I can not pass On passion Residual heat And repeat Enhancement Without Requirement Just you The universe And I