Look,
The day will come where it takes a mortician
to show you there are worse things
  than your depression
Death or dismemberment
It's not just your falsified insurance claim
The day you fell to your knees and wept
  over the great pacific ocean
In the city of angels you were humbled by its majestic potion
The message in a bottle you never sent
Your laziness allowed the entire ocean to be swept
  carelessly away for your lack of devotion
The day you spoke about your loneliness
sitting in an upright-coffin-confession
Adjacent to the man who ***** children
  to make himself feel... more... man.
Literally, I meant, he felt those young men.

Did that yet distract your pain?
Remember that day
that day you cried to your doctor
  Elaborating about your back and lack of motion
She’d been crying
She was trying to comprehend
hospice for her cancer-ridden husband
  Off to die, he was sent
Oh, that's exactly what it meant.

But, oh, that little tiny microscopic pain!
Then there was that day you complained
To your flat-mate about your job being so mundane.
  As she spoke of her boss firing her,* post-*****
To avoid the human resource claim
You were hell-bent over your issue…
As she went insane.

Remember the day you went "insane" to your best friend
About your second wedding being destroyed by the rain
Your bestie was a man who had never felt the embrace
      of love
           affection
                 or pain
The ability to cherish
The passion and pain of a woman,
      he had paralyzed legs,
           no woman had ever loved him
                 Because he could never provide ***.
And YES you booooooo-hoo-ed
Over all your costume-esque dresses getting wet
Whats next?
You complain about the rain...
  A magical natural scene
But LOOK,
You've never once tried
to see that persons suffering.

I'm jealous of that tiny, little dress
How it clings to the contours of your body
And how the seams caress your thighs
Where I wish my hands could caress
And my lips could cling.


M•(e). Díaz

Particles
Numerous
Grandeur in their audacity to
Compare me to each insignificant blade of grass
As I stand above the overpass

Blurry reds and whites
Melting apathetically in with the dusting of pink

Almost lept from my gravitational pull
Instead remembered how good it felt
When your indecency once slid up
The opening in my dress
I stayed planted
Promising my dillusion the same temptations
Would ultimately make another appearance
In the infinite rotation of a tangled set of lucid moments

And maybe,just maybe
This time
They'd stay a little longer.

the dress is lying still
on her hips
but not at rest
a tight caress
that stalks in wait
proxy to the prey