100PaigesShort

100PaigesShort Apr 2015

I see a netted drape
Over my mouth
And a knotted one
Over my occipital

A breath of fresh air,
Still finds its way south;
To give no relief
As my ***** drawls.

I'm a southern girl,
So south you ain't south anymo',
The same as my health,
Downed like a Merritt Island Iced Tea.

(For those of you unknowing,
MI is were addicts go to retire,
and our teas are more green than the dragon)

For vainglory we go
Buzzed and slow

I did so well,
despite red in the bowl
over and over
I just saw roses

On my long nails,
under my eyelids,
in my nostrils,
Unnoticeably pale.

The pain makes me pass,
outer than cattle
In the Atlantic, you still won't find them.

If I count like a toddler,
why can't he?

He strangles my ears,
Slaps my eyes,
clenches my stomach,
hurts my hands, my arms, my spine, my legs, my face, my jaw,
And still they don't listen.

I can't blame them much.
Though I said many word,
The passion didn't seem right.
Wrong to the right people,
Screamed to the able,
Signed to the deaf.

No one has done anything horrible to me.
Nobody but me.

Sure, I have problems with my mind
Like most of you here
(otherwise we wouldn't be writers,
though I am of a differemt [boring] breed)

But that's not what's killing me.
My body is shutting down,
And I wish that was metaphorical.
Or that it would hurry up and finish.

#florida #thinkcritically #itsnotwhatyouthink #itsmorethanyouknow #actuallyreadbetweenthelinesforonce #youmotherfuckers

100PaigesShort Apr 2015

The ******* Same

We're all the same here.
Amateur poets screaming for attention,
for someone to hold our spilled guts in their hands,
to see a fortune,
whatever it is that we want at the moment.

Humans have so many shared experiences,
yet we fail so frequently to connect.
For what?

"There's nothing new under the sun."
Legally recognized, defensible.
There's only one reason for a story to be a story: conflict.
There's two plots: the end is better than the beginning,
or the end is worse.

Kind of like how there's really only two choices in all of life,
and the rest is subsequent.

Do you give up, or do you not?
Do you let yourself whither and die,
pathetic,
drowning in your own tears, rupturing your stomach
by feasting on your own self-pity,
crying about being alone but pushing everyone away...

Or do you get the **** up, even if it means sewing your mouth shut to hide your own screams
and stuffing rods in your back to hold you up,
no matter how much it hurts,
and tell everyone you have a chronic eye condition,
to explain the weeping?

We're never really free.
But we're also never really constrained.

We're nothing; and that's why we're everything..

Because we're all the ******* same.

Get over it.

I've heard it all before.

100PaigesShort Apr 2015

1 year

At the end of the countdown,
I may or may not have taken off.

I was not the kid that played fetch with her dog.
You never saw the point in it.
I watched you in your reflection,
as you turned to me,
when I entered your view.

Watched your neck snap,
back and forth,
when you saw the TeleTubbies on TV,
chewing on your ripped red teletoy.

You trained us,
herded us covertly.
Demanded permission
to jump on the couch.

Toilet paper shreds littered the hallways.
I liked surprise feet fuzziness,
because they were yours.

Nobody liked you at first.
But when they came around,
which they always did,
they loved you harder than anything.

A soft secret,
you were perfect to me,
when you wanted to be.

I missed you so much.

We have new babies now.
We see you in them every day.

So why can't I remember you?

I still cry at times,
because I had never seen death be so horrible to something so good.

I still cry when I think of you,
not because I miss you,
but because I can't remember what you felt like anymore.

100PaigesShort Apr 2015

Florida's Way

Rain soaks the bone
holding the garbage bag,
fuller than a sail.
Plastic wheels click unevenly---
The professionals don't lay even asphalt.

Donning only a mismatched suit
From three stores, on sale
Insisting on exposure
The bones click,
clutching the parachute, already on the ground.

If life were a game,
my skateboard skill would be zero.

Pebbles leave a gray coat,
settling in the puff,
keeping it's hue,
while what was sanguine is diluted,
but taking more space than before.

We came out,
when our valuables were inside.
We were open,
when the metal was bolstered up,
celebrating a natural disaster.

Distant danger brings us closest,
when you are privileged.

Observation made during a storm
is never to be depended upon.

Over many days,
I learned to play in the gray.

#storm #party #florida #hurricane

— The End —