12:00am. . . 1:00am. . .2:00am. . .
In the cutting silence
Theres nothing to distract me from myself
Words stuck in my throat
Attempting to coerce my lips to separate
They never succeed
And these words drip down my esophagus
Back into my soul
To be repressed
Until 12:00am again
Jan 21, 2014
Jan 21, 2014 at 10:38 AM UTC
Wake up
Get my son ready for school
Say goodbye to my husband
Walk my son to the bus stop
Walk home
Sweep. Mop. Scrub.
Go out and get my tire pressure checked
Stop by the post office
Go home
Walk to the bus stop
Walk home with my son
Schedule next PTA meeting
Cook dinner
Husband returns home
Eat dinner
Put son to bed
I kiss my husband
We are too tired to get intimate
We fall asleep next to one another
Both proudly grinning
We've done it
We've destroyed the sanctity of marriage
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 1:01 AM UTC
The cocoons cracked open
And these beautiful creatures
That resulted from metamorphosis
Fluttered around their new home
In the wife's stomach
"I am going to pick him up"
She kissed her daughter
Whom also had insects
Fluttering inside her 9 year old stomach lining
720 seconds were spent in the station-wagon
Dodging the potholes the city refused to repair
720 seconds were spent
Taking her to see him.
His flight landed
360 seconds after she arrived
And they embraced one another
for 180 seconds
Before she guided her camouflaged warrior
Back to the station-wagon
Sweaty palms gripped the steering wheel
Salt water streaks on her burning Scarlett cheeks
Bleached teeth being advertised
To her camouflaged warrior
Thhhunkthhuhnkthhunkk
Pothole.
As the wife turned to the rear window
Fearing she hurt one of God's creatures
Frightened she had innocent blood on her hands
Inadvertently disobeyed the shining red beacon ahead of her
Screeching metal violating airwaves
Burning tires sliding against asphalt
Glass fractals orbiting through the sky
Flatline.
Beneath the Mylar balloons
Waiting patiently under the "Welcome Home" banner
Sat a daughter with fluttering butterflies
Unaware the balloons would lose their helium
And the insects inside her would decompose
Long before she would be reunited with her parents again.
Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 11:28 AM UTC
There is always a finger flirting with the trigger
A word
A phrase
A visual aid
All aphrodisiacs to the finger
Which induce the ******
Of a pulled trigger
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 12:20 PM UTC
1200 minutes were spent traveling to see you
I only held you for a night
Before I had to travel 1200 more minutes
Back to reality
Now I spend every second alone
Because 1200 minutes wasn't enough
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 11:50 AM UTC
I found your love in the white lines
In the dancing trails of smoke
In every fallacious euphoric injection
In every prescribed cheap thrill
In the depths of the golden sea
brewing inside of me
I lost myself when I found you.
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 10:31 AM UTC
With the mind of Dali
And a lack of fine motor skills
Art has always been my greatest disappointment
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 10:23 AM UTC
I never found myself through charity
I never found myself through religion
But I always find myself
After 40 ounces
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 6:19 PM UTC
Being with her is exponentially better than anything else in my life.
She laughs at my jokes
She understands my humor
The kind of humor I try on other people
And they wonder what box I thought outside of
And how to get me back in there
She likes the weird nonsense that spurs from my mouth
*All the fake scenarios
All the strange hand gestures
And all my weird voices*
She likes them all, and they make her laugh
But I don't think this is how friendship is suppose to feel
Do all friends feel the incessant need to hold each other during sleepovers
Does friendship mean noticing the way her skirt sways when she moves
Or the way her eyes dart down to her feet when she walks
Does it mean I'm suppose to want to kiss her when we sit underneath trees
*Am I suppose to touch her hand
Am I suppose to not touch it
I want to touch it
I want it interlocked in mine*
Does friendship mean she's not suppose to notice my new dress
Even when I notice hers
Does it mean she's not suppose to want to be affectionate with me
Even if just the way she touches my arm gives me goosebumps
Is friendship suppose to feel like you're drowning in your own self pity when she talks about boys
And is it friendship when she cries over them and all I can think is
*I could treat you better
You deserve better
I could give you everything
Even my lungs if you really needed them.*
Is friendship suppose to hurt this much.
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 5:45 PM UTC