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sweet ridicule May 2015
not quite sad more of an intrinsically motivated obsession with the universe that inspires a certain degree of sadness.  like the first time I kissed his neck and the universe understood this intrinsically motivated obsession and inspired a certain degree of sadness. there is reality and there  is my reality

and mine is unavoidable and thunderstorms in-front of and behind me and graceful rain on my head at all times and so much so so much to think about it and the fruit snack wrapper on the floor is blowing away and the fan is clicking and I have math to do but I don't care what a radian does

I only care that I don't see a god in the millions of dying people and the four year old locked in the basement of her addicted mother's house. Hemingway says that all thinking men are atheists (and women this is 2015 and I am brilliant) and I am pure atheist except when rain comes down and I believe that everything is connected in some way

and I sat on the trampoline with my 13 year old sister and let the rain fall on my face and slide down my shirt and drip into my belly button and I think I reminded myself why we are alive and then the lightening scared me enough to shake my doubt away

we are all okay sometimes.  and my brain is exceptionally faulty--frontal lobe doesn't act normally and she told me that it's like it flies away and I can't find rationality until it settles and comes back to earth and I am rarely on earth.  and I scared him because too much passion can break more than glass and

it's hard to realize that for every second I hate it is only because I love to the point of insanity and I can't hate unless I love unless I am drowning
in hopeless desire for more than human for invincibility and driving with the windows down and music blaring everything else out

then I remember I am someone else's child and it is only fair to care for that girl so I slow down
I put my arms out every time I walk in the wind so maybe it'll take pieces of me with it and turn me into the alive person that i crave that I desire that I fume for much more than

touch

but I can't just be touched to feel love I just watch eyes to remind myself why this planet is here why the oceans are filled with salt why people are dying to live why people are living just to die

I love again each day right after convincing myself I don't and it's not touch I remind myself how to live in those eyes and I broke the glass the glittery strong slippery now shattered glass so the least I can do is let the glass fix itself slowly

but I don't believe in god I believe in love and rain and passion and desire and this is my catharsis
this is fascinating
I don't know where these words came from
sweet ridicule May 2015
but first coffee
and spilled chia seeds
down my shirt
an empty bag of
chocolate covered espresso beans
on my dusty computer desk
with a picture of Love
in a doggy bone frame --I don't know why--
stained with time
mom took a picture of me last
December
writing Christmas cards to
a dozen faces I know
but don't care for
she said --send it to Love--
--you're beautiful--
Love said I was beautiful
too
in an over-sized cotton candy pink
orchestra shirt
so I believed it
now a little too arrogant
daring the massive population
to disapprove of my naked
make-up free face
because Love said I was beautiful
and I believed it
they said it all
  May 2015 sweet ridicule
Vivian
I can see three skies
on the interior of my eyelids,
and I just got a text from
my friends at a party; it's
well past dark and it feels like
Genoa and Home and London
all in one. I keep
waking up and
dozing off again;
******* fits and
trazodone dreams.
I feel like I'm trapped
in a time loop; Groundhog Day,
but every day I love a new
person,
but you
always come around,
always on my mind
and I
do not know how to keep you
out of my brain, how to
keep you near me.
sweet ridicule Apr 2015
nirvana
nirvana me
how did I get here
soporific no more
this story
is spinning me into hurricanes
salty skin lustrating itself
and I shake when
people open to me
raw raw raw
like an onion
draw tears
out of me
they come very easily
like secrets
I have
none
zealously for life
defines the dreamers
I will never be Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds
or Frida Kahlo
but I am art
I will inhale from Lethe
every day of my life
because
I will create a new earth
every gasp I take
and vulnerability is my power
consistently unabated
I'll strip down naked
before the world
before I give up my
Lethe
this woe
this cataclysm
does not belong in me
power power earth
sweet ridicule Apr 2015
take me to PuNe  baby
or I'll take you
in the back of my self-induced
naked hallucinations
as words *****
themselves from my gut
too impertinent to do
drugs
solely high off of your jargon
you don't know how
bold
I am
stardust
sugar and spice and everything nice
covered in salt
dripping tar black salt
just like you
hedonistic
all humans hedonistic
but this is my joie de vivre
pUnE baby
race me to the finish line
pisces and scorpio
bleeding atmospheres
between them
maybe my skin is
too salty black tar
for sweet tongues
but you forget
I am relentless
relentless
and will not allow
a consignation to oblivion
I'll be in PuNe
relentless
once again we go around
sweet ridicule Apr 2015
I love honey
on my tongue with butter
until it grows in my stomach
multiplying into gallons of
honey (sickly sweet)
suffocating me with a sweetness
I can breathe through
slowly steadily
all your pretty skin
and eyes that haven't lit up
nearly enough lately

so many pretty boys
(dark eyes thick eyebrows carved arms full lips Adams apple)
and I am mesmerized
only
by your furrowed brow
even as the chocolate eyed boy
touches my arm
read
sweet ridicule Apr 2015
I have no filter
raw naked bare authentic exposed heart emotions
constantly pouring into the open
humans are desperate for fidelity
and I know nothing but that

let's play a game
I'll hold up your pride
keep the walls
and stand alone to watch
you do your dance
and dissipate
from mainstream
even more than you already have

I know what I want
let's play a game
let's go
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