of the street
From where I sat
in a row
you left me
a youth of misunderstandings
Look at you now
In your glass house
With self doubt
Layered toxic masculinity
Existing to fornicate
A love story just beginning
Meet me where you first told me
About your mother
And your brother
May will always
You think I don’t see
But I see everything that’s presented to me
Is your conviction
To your addictions
You don’t admit to
While playing the victim
How much I’ve changed
While you’re still the same
Even though you’re different
While I took abuse for my inspirations
You were jealous
How life has changed since
I stared trying
Instead of crying
About why I didn’t
And I’m sorry
If my words resonate within you
You just ask yourself why
I’m a prophet.
-Rhetorical Curiosity 21.
First kiss at the psych ward, strap me to the gurney
Deliver me from evil, tempt me eternally
Lucifer’s hellhound is space bound like my mentality- Venus.
To be great like em-inem I bet he has a big (rocket ship)
Alliteration, pronunciation like Smash Pan-
Alley where we used to fight about it.
Drinking king cans by the river
A blimp of a memory drifting endlessly
Listen to your voice emanate synchronicities
Haunting me vocally as I condemn myself to his servitude, I’m holy
Saint of the church like Mother Theresa, pray with my rosary
Undress me slowly, ripe for the picking
A flower blooming seductively under duress of the past atrocities committed upon me
I own that ****, I’m a sinner.
Repentance for misdirected animosity
Be who you are
And love endlessly.
One month and eleven days
Each daybreak reminding me of star crossed lovers personified
Broken hearts and plumes of choreographed chemistry
Blinking down souls of the ******
My studio album titled: Damaged Goods Handle with care, she’s a little fragile.
Pick up right where we left off
Bookmark that moment for later
Return to sender
Circle the drain with your epinephrine
Pop a pill and play make believe
Time is running out
Choke me harder
Oh sweet nicotine
You’re a scoundrel
I’m your lovesick Queen
The delicate curvature of your lips
Swirling arousal around my hips
Trailing deliciously intimate kisses
Until you’re enjoying yourself amongst my soft inner thighs;
Warmth trailing by moonlight
We kiss and the night is lost within your deep blue eyes.
“I wanted to be happy,”
The words crept from my lips like scurrying little spiders when their home.
Disturbed amongst darkened cobwebs in an untouched dingy room.
Dismaying salvation of apathologized compliance.
Masking behaviour for acceptance.
“Stop spinning in that chair- it’s annoying”
Self expression became punishable,
dismaying youth- retribution beyond reasonable understanding.
Belted and crying,
“Please stop, it hurts.”
Nothing feels safe.
Transmitting adulthood with repressed memories though awakened by medical emergency of your cat.
Navigating uncertainty since July; desperately attempting to understand inner workings of trauma brain.
Complex post traumatic stress disorder.
Medical diagnosis though intrusive thoughts still catastrophic.
Chronic pain with desolation-
Desperately craving the touch of another human.
Covid times; worsening depression, combatting betraying myself with fathers abusive words while unproductively masquerading oversleeping.
Powerlifting self regulation,
though collapsing under the bar.
If they wanted to talk to you,
they would make effort.
Though I still fawn my way to self acceptance.
That’s what my parents taught me to do.
I’ll tongue circles around
My poison apple,
With just one kiss,