Inserted ear buds
Attempted confinement
Chained to misery.
My igloo of isolation with the computer doesn't hold well against
Winds of anxiety blowing torrents of stuff through my mind.
An arctic tundra of ravaged grass.
Long-necked lamp looms
Waiting anxiously for me and
Witnessing bouts of non-progress.
Perpetrators impregnate fleeting tranquility
Never wanting me to win
in my concentration.
--Bony bodies slipping under the crack in the door.
They are the Monkey Mind
I have to escape from.
Many.
Petty.
Fears.
This is the way my consciousness wages war.
Ripping itself apart
Defeating purpose
till there is none.
During battles,
Monkeys Rule It All.
At the end
I shall win.

Everything was dreary
...And bleak.
And my skin happened to look red and splotchy.
All I had wanted
Was to binge on coco flavanols and overdose on caffeine.
I hadn't moisturized my skin after my shower, or put cover up on while it was still moist and warm. My veneer had not been established.
I told myself it didn't matter..
But really this issue was the cultivation
The turning point of my day.

Then I put my face on.
The grey, somber mask turned to Lovely, Feminine Pink.
As I spread the beige cream across my complexion, I felt something shift; insidious.
I felt the ******* I had been enslaved to.
I had been the one
With no friends and no sellouts to lug around with the rest of her baggage.
I had been the one
Who gawked and sneered
At the self-medication of the lonely girls who looked oh-so attractive
With their gleaming, hair~framed faces
And popping eyes.
What have I become?
I now claim this self selling drug
As my own.
What does it mean? What does it say about me?
Even more importantly, what does it say about you, and your stand point?
Do you put your face on, or do you let your soul bubble out of the surface of your complection?
FACE
A FACE
A million faces, pretty ones.
It's time to face the place of natural grace and replace the superficial first impression we chase.

All of a sudden,
It hit me
And i love you.
Over every man.
Every sundae.
every DRESS.
All for you, I've made such a mess
Of my life
And of my rules.
You are a beloved to me.
Above all jewels is your legacy to set people free.
Freedom.

The branch of my thought stream bursts higher and higher
This hailing; writer's brainstorm fueling the fire.

Some words of mine
Aren't meant to admire,
Though some I take pride in
And relive their desire.

Nevertheless, all words are children from this tree.
Where foreign pieces of myself are revived and set free.

Each leaf buds from the words that I choose
Joining in growth
For a fabulous muse.

I imagine a hill, at the top is this tree.
One with bright leaves of red, yellow, and green.
It stands bent and crooked in its peaceful way,
And in the sweet breeze does it soft and lullingly sway.