How are you? Not much
How have you been? Doing?
How are you doing? Been?
What’s new? I’m fine.

Let’s get together sometime.
Open invitation
Feels like forever since I saw you last.
Text me.

Definitely.
It’s a date.
Has it?
Text me.

Gassy, bloated, clammy, smelly, chicken in gums, sty in the eye, sweatpants stained, scrunchie, flip flop fleeing
Actual feelings.

Here’s to you friend-
You’ve come unwound,
Betrayed my trust and stomped the ground

And slammed the door
And made a scene
That it’s unfair, and I am mean

And it’s my fault
Can you not see
I’ve locked the vault
It’s you, not me.

The time is done
When i’ll give in
To your tyrannies

So there, I win.

Yesterday
I approached Yesterday
enjoyed complimentary champagne and truffles
Wore a light blue silk shirt
Skin tight jeans
black and blue high heels
I blew out my candles and wished three things
I wished these three things three more times
Through the tunnel each way
And the second time I blew out my candles
It’s a funny thing when wishes feel hopeless
… how I wish for a love like yours
Even though you were left in the end.
Perhaps I have it on a small scale
Not a novel’s worth but three pages in a journal's worth
No children, no ring, no transatlantic life
Just a stillness inside.
I fell denying it was happening with the illusion that
I was in control
Until, “Surprise! You’re heartbroken now pick up the pieces
Of your self respect and move along
The yellow lights are flashing
You can’t stop here”.
And I find myself thinking today
Between floods of emotion where the phlegm in my chest
Wants to escape as tears out my eyes that the
Greatest heartbreak
Is that HE didn’t talk to me on my birthday again
OK fine Christmas OK fine New Years, but my birthday?
How many birthdays has it been where we haven’t spoken?
Where I get no acknowledgement for being alive?
Heartbroken, a mess with men, I went to a jazz club with a new beau.
A young painter fairly talented fairly handsome
Who paid for everything the whole night
So I went back to his small apartment
That smelled like turpentine
And he took off my clothes and tried to have *** with me
When I said “no” he persisted so I said “no” again
And he backed off asking if “he got anything in return?”
I said “no”
He said “I plan on making you my girlfriend”
I said, “so?” The answer is still “no”
And I left.
Took a cab back
It was past two am and snowing the first snow of the year
And I thought about yesterday and how I was asked
To be a **** model for ten photographers for a hundred dollars an hour for two hours
And to sign my rights away to all the pictures
I haven’t said “no”
I feel **** today
I feel more than ****
I feel see through.

I wrote a sonnet today but it was serious so I titled it "I wish this sonnet was funny but it’s soNNOT. Then I deleted it because I'm in one of those angsty annoying phases where I'm disappointing even myself.

I wear ****** like a fur coat. Denying the dead animal.
Accelerate. Crash.
Circles. No ends. Circular thoughts.
I have no clue *** that means. She didn't either. Ivy league *****.
3: Obsession, Hatred, Boredom. The holy trinity.
Everyone else does. iiiiiiiiiiii.
Genius? Too tired. ****'s pointless. Nothing to prove. No point in proving.
Prove it into me, yeah. What? You're insane.
You think everyone thinks that.
You can think anything. See try: They're all jealous. Doesn't make them all jealous. Take a step back. Who gives a ****. I think therefore who gives a ****.
I wear ****** like a fur coat. Denying the dead animal.

pry open your eyes
Two Families, one survivor: A Tale of Unwavering Hope!
Or...
Two Families, one survivor: A Tale of Unwavering Self Deception.
Por Qua?! You may blurt out? Yes, sheep can and do speak Spanish and if you are reading this you are one of them. Join us! As we hold hands and adventure down the raging rapids of I accept that my life is great and I am happy because if, for one second, I did not everything about me could crumble into meaninglessness.
modernmodernmodern

Great
After a perfectly good week
You stub your toe. Isn’t that the way?
I caught a cold from a boy who kissed me and
I was speeding around town singing to the radio, spending money, getting my toes painted and my shoulders rubbed and then I ran into my cousin.
Who I had forgotten about.
ERRRRRRRTTTTTT.
Guiltguiltguiltguiltguiltguiltguilt
Lost family, lost family- aisle 6 red vest white Target...
I…. hi.
No not I, not now.
Worst than forgetting about him is seeing him this way- in his opinion. After embarrassed eye contact he turns away.
But none of us turned out the way they wanted us to.

The boy who kissed me said “sorrysorry” when he got me sick.
“It’s not your fault. It’s okay.”
Was that the right thing to say?

Why didn't I yell after him as he walked away- "I'm not really doing anything with my life either."