My head is fuzzy-
I can't pull myself out from underneath
the intoxicatingly tiring weight
of my multiple comforters and blankets.
I think of the inside of a koala's ear.
How fuzzy that must be.
That is what I am, yes.
I am nonsense, innocent pink and gaping.
No complex encroaching my perception,
no predelection for the preceeding day.
No bias nor misdirection yet, i am
unwavering as a week of rain
that leaks into two;
heavy grey clouds that won't budge
for longer than a half-hour.
I am a spelling bee and the certainty
before the fall- the letters came out wrong.
I am a churning gut, egging me
towards the "right call"
with the strumming of my moral fibers
or something of that nature.
I am the creeping heat of a humid day
no present danger
just sense of exhaustion;
feeling drained.
I am the pain on the page
and the **** poor decisions
that lead to a scalding shower
trying to smoke out those spur-of-the-moment sins.
I'm alone in your parent's walk-in closet
sobbing behind your father's golf polo's
while you make desserts
for a party full of strangers.
I always hated how you tried
to impress the neighbors.
I am the next day hurt
from a wrestling match that popped up in the
back yard over some hurt feelings
and a misinterpreted meaning.
I am all you know
but won't believe in.

C.e.M. Aug.18,2015

I am monday morning
come too early
waiting, dirtied from
the weekend;

come to wash off your alter ego
and decisions,
split like the bill
and all those little hairs
that tickle your face
when the wind whispers secrets
too quiet to decipher.

I am an indecisive shiver
of awakening
and the cool tile bathroom
that calls you from sleep
after the second snooze expired.

I am the hot cracking leather
beneath sweating thighs
a thirty minute traffic jam
after a dull day,
radio buzzing and daydreamy.

I am the tension before rest and release,
cool sheets
and sweet sleep.

C.e.M. Aug.24, revised Aug. 29 2015

Finding inner strength is hard
That is to say,
when my eyes are tired
and I'm perpetually bored with everything
that might be the possibility
of some sort of
unforseen progression,

I lose any words
to hold in the moment
with something you might conceed
to understand.

Sand me down with your selfish demands
and gritty hands
after two days past
when you should've cleaned up a bit.

Maybe in late summer
the rag **** will swirl about
and I'll say I have
an allergy headache
and maybe that's why
I'm congested
and mildly depressed
and sure, maybe
that's it
or maybe
it's because of all the cigarettes.

Don't hate me if I don't answer
I've just found something new
to captivate my attention
for the moments when we part.

The tension of what's expected
hangs thick in incense smoke
and anticipation.

I'm migrating into something misplaced
and full of consternation.

C.e.M. August 16, 2015

Blitzed and blinded
by barely escaping lies
that make you feel apart
of things
but have left
you behind.

Why have you shied away
once again?
you've lost any
real intent.

Bottom of the pit
with blood crusted lips
and a head
full of ****.

You're still a kid.
you're still a kid.

C.e.M. April 25, 2015

picking at the skin
left to wither around a
somewhat fresh
wound,
avoiding eye contact
and your next move.

you don't have the energy
to choose
when moving forward
means you lose.

stay in place
stay obtuse
shell out another
over used excuse.
dropping clues
to your old ruse
for a new muse.

C.e.M. April 25, 2015

dozing or writing poetry
always seems so much better than
the alternative
going out-
stale *******
package left open world
spoiled.
Don't cry over spilt milk
don't cry over the bed you made
or this tower you built.
you were in on it.
every over bred chicken
ground and breaded
we rename our stupidity all cutesy.
So if that's the only way I can appeal
to you
the only way you can hear
so you might heal,
then take a chicken nugget of wisdom
and go check out the kitchen.
What are they cooking up?
the putrid toxins of dissention
racism named "culture"
police brutality spelled "justice"
hidden
organized
normalized.
News sources with the
long-standing trust
of the public
but they're slowly becoming
a part of the budget.

Cheap food and the six o'clock news
commercial break for cigarettes and *****
we're spoon fed
and we choose it.
Plastic bred
poison fed
under the guise of choice
and an easier life.
Hard nights
bar fights
at least the taco bell
is open past midnight.

While your brain is soup
eat a little more sludge
and when you're uncomfortable and confused
well,..
I told you to run.

C.e.M. 8.14.15

When the month has fizzled out
and the moon
has given you two tries
and you're still stuck on goodbyes

do you even remember your last words?
or were they just for the sake of reply.
I'm wondering why you've even wasted your time.
C.e.M. 7.11.15