Tag Archives: feelings

Here, kitty kitty…

Here, kitty kitty…

You fit me well
In that sinister edge your laughter keeps
Making a mockery
Better than a living
Of me, and I pretend so well to love it

You do not know me

You wear me well
But cannot keep
Me, contained
In the guilt of your smile
You poor baby; you made me
Your fix, your crutch, your reason for being
Seldom what you seem
Turning me into a joke
Some permanence of blue
In your emptiness of green

And yet I’m the one short of worthy
You deem
It wasn’t enough
For you to tie me down
A mummified queen
Of this promised forever

If simply to breathe, I should ask your permission
If I seal my lips and sell my dreams
If I spend the money to buy into your mission–the satisfying of your own sick needs
Will you then say I’ve fared well as your wife?

If I resist the urge to peel the skin off your skull, set your frame on fire, blow your brains out just to watch you bleed
Then in my book it should suffice
(trust me)
As proof I must have loved you
If only a smidgen

If I close my eyes, keep still, be quiet
Return my silence for your emotional violence
If somehow I manage
To allow you your vices
Of snapping a soul in two just to suit you;
If I rise to the top like thickening oil
On the surface, I assure you
It means that you my dear, at least married well

I didn’t marry down;
I crawled straight to hell and took the name of the biggest beggar I found

Rob Peter to pay Paul

My life is a testament
To what happens to little girls
Who are never shown how
Why does marriage still exist?
Was I born just for this?
United with a state of unobtainable bliss

I grew up too quickly
Of societal norms
I colored my world in shades of burnt orange
Forgetting the images subsequently absorbed
Were distorted, conformed
To my inner expectations
Of very little
And very often

We always get what it is we’ve expected

For me, it’s a lifetime of hide-and-seek
Bare-knuckled scream-thinking
Bruise-inclined heart-beating
White picket fences
And hearts to be mended
With skinned-shaking knees

I believed sweet dreams are made of these
Who wouldn’t like to disagree?

The cat accomplishes nothing
Out of the bag


Someone said there’d be days like this.

Someone said there’d be days like this.

It’s a certain madness.

The coming on of days, relentlessly break. Themselves over my head like the tide’s rushing waves. Crash and collapsing on the sorrow-filled haze that swiftly becomes my own newest now-state; perpetual longing. Days and days. Like some mathematical equation, the series of hours consecutively adding themselves upon one another with exponential unforgiveness; delirious daze. The multiplication of an enigmatic pain. One plus one plus one more, forever. One at a time. Times nine times nine. It never stops and doesn’t care if I like it. Doesn’t ask if I’m ready. Doesn’t let me ask why. Reason and purpose are no longer mine.

Ring around the rosies with my pockets full of worries and the air is growing heavy and it’s good to be alive. Depression is a dance and so I shall, I vow — again again. Oh my oh my, pretend pretend. The dancing floor is riddled with holes but they all lead nowhere. Thousand no’s, thousand maybe’s. Rocks don’t roll. They only bury.

Dance they say. Without a partner, on display and the music is broken and refuses to play but dance dance dance dance anyway. To what. For why. Because because, and heaven lays her head to cry. Though not for me, for what I’m not. A robot in a shrinking box. The moon is laughing at my thoughts. I still can’t find the sense I got that everything will be alright and this will pass like dreams at night.

Am I dreaming? Someone screaming silent tears that wet the sky. A loud distorted lullaby. Waxing, waning. No complaining. Full and empty, dissipating. I wake up mostly twice a day, the rest I close my eyes to stay surrendered blind to pain inside that nothing gives me space to hide.

The why’s and where’s are far behind. Memories; they’re over now. (Down my head to sleep shall lie. Itself, it hurts. It grows in spurts.) So sink me like a sunken bow. The ship has sailed, float on with wow… -less proof that I’m still breathing.