Eating my beyond burger with a fork and knife,
drag race in the background,
my Samantha doll by my side.
This isn't loneliness anymore.
This is just life now.

I'm not very good with words anymore,
maybe I never was.
So little has changed and yet everything has.
I still long for love.
I still want to be wanted.
That might never change.

Yet now this lonely world is one I've come to accept,
come to love.
I may be my only friend here,
but that's one more than last year.

Nothing I create is good,
but I'm learning to create anyway.
I'm learning to share my bad art,
at least it's art.
Right?

I dream of slitting the throat of the dog next door.
Someone outta shut him up.
I used to think that was an evil thought,
now I know there's no such thing.

I turn 21 in 2 days.
Math. Yuck.
I'm old,
getting older every second.
Whatever.
I will grow into this skin,
I'm sure of it.
Maybe.

I'm grateful.
More than anything I am grateful for it all.
The pain,
the pleasure,
the guilt,
the anger.

Pills,
family,
friends,
dolls.

No one reads these except me.
So this one is for her.
For you.
Anne,
my love,
my villain,
my biggest fear.

May this year be kind to you,
may you be kind to it.
May you listen to your spirit guides,
may you accept what you never could.

Growth is sticky and wet,
Knowledge is thick and grey.
May you be the light and the darkness,
the cut and the band aid.

More than anything,
be okay.
You're gross,
in a sort of beautiful way.
May you be okay with that.
Truly.




Bad art is still art.
Right?
I think so.
For now.

I didn't push you away,
I actually wanted you to stay.
It was so easy for you to blame.

I cared,
But now I'm too scared.
Scared of love, commitment.

Love is like a squid
really odd and weird
all this time it hid
then suddenly appeared

Making you fall deep
down to the oceans floor
taking a giant leap
where you've not been before

and suddenly it's gone
sometimes in a blink
but poems like this live on and on
written with it's ink

time will heal
and silently
collect the scars
that are
meant to be
left in the past

after all
love
simply isn't enough
to make us last.

PaulSN

She moved towards me
with an  unparalleled
Grace;
and in doing so,
poured Living water  over
an ancient, Jezebelian wound--
  still bleeding;
  cut-- deeply

across  my battle-scarred chest.

And,
in a timeless,  ancient world;
the healing she brought  to me
b e c a m e
a healing  for all mankind--
  in,
and through
the healing of woman-kind;

as she   b r e a t h e d   out to me
   a kiss,
along the edge of
a faint scar-line;

the one  that
just above my hip--
gave hint..

of a missing rib.