You feel for the bad me
The one that smoked , skipped school
Gave up on her dreams
Gave up on herself
It may just be a coincidence
But why leave when I wanna be better ?
Why not stay to see
What I can become
We can become ?

Silence deepens within me like a black rock,
when scientists discovered that even plants speak in their own language.
My silence remains silent, like a thorned rose untouched by anyone.
Only I know the depths of that rock, the breath of the rose’s silence.
And my black heart,
my breath of stone,
which is terrifying like the portrait of  Gray, weighed down by its gravity.
my hands that cross in sleep, protecting me from loneliness.
Oh, my silence,
my silence,
silence,
dark silence,
shrouded in mystery,
you, yourself, within your own being.

When the urge
to react to the
tactless clowns,
and
down looks like
up,
and life's teeth
are sharper than
a steak knife,
breathe,
and take a
sacred pause.

I woke up with
A sore back, and
stepped in cat
***** when my
feet hit the floor.
I turned on the
radio, and My Favorite
Things was playing,
the John Coltrane
version.
It reminds me of
rainy July nights.

I make some coffee,
And check the book sales.
Hey, I got a couple in
India, and the coffee tastes
right.

I take it as it comes.
Black and true, like
Steinbeck's bones.
Don’t forget about the
goings of mice and men.

You wear a long black coat,
your hair falls over your shoulders,
You  have  Chloe perfume.
Your life simply isn’t like anyone else’s,
you never wanted to be someone else.
You drink white semi-dry wine.
You have everything,
maybe that’s why you’re alone.
You read Agota Kristof,
you don’t smoke and you work out.
You are sad,
and everyone like you is sad.

Google Assistant is reminding me that my birthday is coming up, I'm turning 34, and this age doesn't make me happy anymore. It especially annoys me when people call once a year just for this and don't think of me the rest of the time.