tooling through the day
in a bewildered sense of slap happy being

and i haven't even had a drink yet!

toppled thoughts
of tumultuous
times
tread tenderly
teasingly
underfoot.

someone take a bat to my head
and knock out the last of my self pity


please.

Thinking: the talking of the soul with itself.
- Plato

the lies that hurt the most
are the ones you tell yourself

blindsided by the reality
of what almost was...

anger doesn't liberate you
it imprisons you

the you
that i've been blaming
is actually
me.

at this time
my baptismal drink of choice
is
three olives
with a splash
of lo-cal cranberry.

Nostrovia!

it's hard to try and stay amused
when among imbeciles
keeping a calm demeanor
tries on my last nerve
the very being of some
is enough to born thoughts in me
of pure and complete violence
   in the harshest form
these people
these....creatures of habit
commoners living in a habitual environment
carbon copies of their predecessors

give me a headache.

love, untethered
may capture
the wrong
heart.

“Happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know.”
― Ernest Hemingway, The Garden of Eden

it'll be a ****** shame
if i leave this earth
without knowing
true
happiness.

a ****** shame.

writing about cheeriness
      isn't as soul gripping
as writing about despair



is the contented mind
                  uncreative?

if i push, you pull
if i give, you take
if i talk, you listen
but if i love...

will you love?

don't tempt me
with a fate
that is not yours
to give.

desperation
breeds
nothing

aloofness
breaks
hearts.

i am surrounded
by wounded spirits
protected by a veil
of hypocrisy.

longing to see your discarded jeans
at the foot of my bed.

to accept your convoluted definition of love
is like putting a loaded gun to my head
and pulling the trigger

years
being built up
but
one word from you
and i'm
extinct

i'd be willing to follow the road to happiness
if it came with a guarantee.

“We're all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn't. We are terrorized and flattened by trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing.”
― Charles Bukowski

having only myself to depend on
worries me

you're someone who's hug
i can melt into

your soul
comforts me into believing
that i have finally
come home.

when word gets out
that you're going though difficult times
people circle around you like vultures
waiting to feast
on something dying

not living up to my ideal of perfect
is very disappointing indeed

show your strength
by admitting your weakness

a heart that's never been broken
is a heart that's never felt love

blown torches
roads traveled
crosses bared

sleepless nights
uneasy meetings
shallow hello's

round about ways
wishy washy
ovations
that don't mean a thing

cowardice
that shouts the intent
without speaking a word

any intentional
accident
is seen as
a calculated
delusion.

i want to spit you out
like you're infected bile
that collects at the bottom of my stomach
making me sick.

you leave me desperate
for a good cleansing.

i open the window wide
and breath in the foul air
expulsing a ***** cough
what a mistake i made
thinking that an open window
would offer me a sense of
purity.

rolling through the night
on a cascade of melancholy
   wishing for days past
     expecting change to days present
       alive with hope
for days to come.

i can be your all
   if you let me

open your mind
and let my craziness
enter.

when the street is dark
and the day closes
when noises become mute
and activity seems to stop
this is when my mind clears
and my thoughts become sharper
this is when i feel the emptiness inside of me
and i grudgingly accept
                                         that i am truly alone.

my heart has been touched
many a time
but my soul
   ah, my soul
that
remains virginal.

waking and
falling drunkenly into the day
but being completely sober
stumbling out of bed
hitting the floor with a wince
trying desperately to stay solid
even though the ground is swaying
absently searching for the exact pieces
to complete the puzzle that's my mind
   whirl a gig thoughts
   sanity on edge
tears dammed only by chance
another day overcome by a blindness of being
   another day
   waiting for the hypothetical slap in the face

such a sad, lost girl
holding tightly
onto what she feels
                     to be love.

      giving
                       giving
     giving

then silently waiting
                to take
but nothing is offered to her

so she's left
looking into an empty glass
that once held tears
     sprung forth
from a much damaged soul
                 and an even deeper
damaged heart.

so lost
        so fearful

     not realizing that what she seeks
is buried deep within
                               herself.

wind blown
   and angry
disappointed
   and rude
cold
   and wet
waiting for the bus
   late of course
   cursing the sky
which responds
by batting my face
with more snow
grey skies
   annoying people

and you

the necessary heat
   that melts my heart.

the anthem of my heart
sings a low melody
the chords crying
in pain
my soul is touched
my mind awakened
and i listen
     listen
        listen
as the crescendo
tickles my senses
and my pulse
keeps in tune
with the beat
of my heart
   quickening
leaving me breathless
       ecstatic
until the pessimistic downbeat
brings me back
slowly
   slowly
     slowly
to where
i started.

the day has ended
   with a blank stare
unaware of where the time has gone
not knowing what has passed
feeling voided
   of what could have been.

your invisible chains
aren't seen
but are felt
by many

we see you struggle
smile cemented
on your face
eyes pleading
to just
let it go

insults
betrayals
humiliations
are accepted by you
with hardly
an expression

you have quit
you've given in
you've succumbed
to the abuse
the humiliations
and the betrayals
accepting sadism
because to you
it's better than
being alone.

i see the smiles
and the laughter
and i wonder
what happened to the harsh words
the angry looks
of yesterday
what has changed
in the course of 24 hours
to make us all
so lovable?
is it the celebration of a 'holy' day
the gathering of 'friends'
of is it just the continuance
of what we're used to?
it makes me laugh
this phoniness
but i must admit
i do go with the flow
i continue the hugs
the laughter
the nodding of understanding
for this is what's expected
in this crazy
mixed up
tedium
we call 'family'.

this time
i let the rain
wash over me
feeling delighted

and looking
in the mirror
instead of seeing
a drowned rat
i saw a
fluffy kitten.


*"rain down, O heavens, from above,
and let the clouds pour down righteousness..."

tumultuous thoughts fill my head
whirling, twirling idioms
of what love should be

hand held strolls
protective arm that saves
a soft kiss that confirms
starry eyes that whisk away

no temptation of fate here
i'll allow the flow of love filled thoughts
to enrapture and hold me

until the real thing comes along.

rolling thunder
   acid rain
sick slick namesakes
given to unappreciative
   props
put into places
to fill our lives
with agony
until we figure out
how to go about
without the help
of the unwanted
   the unneeded
and the unnecessary.

i'd like to grab a stranger
   from the street
hold them upside down
and shake

just to see what falls out

if anything.

waking up slowly
hoping upon hope
praying
that the need isn't there
but opening your eyes
you realize it is
and for a split second you are disheartened...
...until you reach for the bottle
        and take a long swig
feeling the warmth encircle you
as excitedly as a lovers embrace
soaking your soul
and feeding your blood
with an intensity that is comparable to
   nothing
you are spellbound
   vulnerable
you feel an imagined strength
the power to do all
   be all
     see all
overcoming everything
   and anything
you are spellbound
blinded by a false sureness
thinking you are strong
not realizing how weak you really are
what a slave you've become
for that bottle has become your lifeline
a temporary paramedic
that keeps you afloat
not knowing that without it
you will no longer
be.

my mind wanders
when i'm lost
claiming answers
to offer closure
the falseness
i live by
burrows deep
until the unbelievable
becomes believable
the obscure
makes sense
and the me
that i have known
becomes
questionable.