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girl gonzo Jun 2017
Wash your hands before leaving.
Every afternoon the television would have a woman in tears
Spanish dialogue, pastel colored sets
Tongue in cheek, modern romance sipping iced tea by the pool
The antagonist wearing a suit and three rings on each finger
Pause.
Soap bars are made of fat, the grease found in
Breakfast diners and sweat off a teenagers face
The lipids turning gelatinous and all I can think of is
Jell-o; the strange colored dessert that doesn’t taste like anything real
My hands begin to itch and I stand up
Wash your hands before leaving.
My hands have become open desert, dry animosity
The skin around the knuckles is delicate, one clench of a fist
I am sure that it will tear, like the skirt of a girl I once knew
But there are creatures lurking everywhere
In the handle of the bathroom door, in the shake of another hand
In the touch of a frame, in the grip of a key
Wash your hands before leaving.
The scattered murmurs on the screen remind me its 5p.m
The women are arguing with their manicured hands
Their eyes all having the same spidery lashes, spiders
I feel insects crawling under my bones
Termites clipping at my heels as I sit in this couch of horrors
I didn’t know the last time it had been washed
It smelled of the 1970’s and I want to go home
The babysitter is on the other chair reclined
Snoring, letting out bacteria through her mouth
At 8 years old I should be on the floor with a coloring book
My lips are dry, the screen is too bright, I can feel the filth everywhere I turn
So I stay
I hear the door knock and it’s my mother picking me up after work
My lungs sigh of relief
Time to go
But first
let me wash my hands before I leave
my experience with ocd as a child
Daniel Mashburn Apr 2017
It's become exhausting being a caricature of a human. All at once, I'm too over-the-top to be considered normal and much to internalized to have real depth with the people I wish to have depth with.

And god knows, I've gotten better at being honest. Not that I was much for lying, at least in perhaps the most traditional sense of the word. But I certainly was incapable of having real human interaction. Maybe it was fear that kept me frozen and unable to communicate what I wanted most to say.

Surely, it was a defense mechanism. It's a lot harder to be disappointed by someone when you refuse to let them be close to you. And it's certainly a lot harder for someone to break you into insignificant pieces when you don't allow them any hold on you.

But somehow being distant because of the fear of people breaking you leaves you even more vulnerable to it. I lost ----- because I couldn't be a real person.

I lost you too.

And perhaps it's too late to make amends and say, "I swear I'm not quite as horrible a person as I've pretended to be. The caricature I've become is definitely not what I intended to be."

But I just want you to know that I'm trying to be honest. And I'm trying to be happy.

But I know I'll never let you know.
She loved the world too easily,
She had no way of knowing
That life will wait to strike you down
When your soft side is showing.
She gave of self, such sacrifice
And when little else was left,
Twas cast aside most heartlessly
Left broken-down and so bereft.

Now bitterness her sword and shield
She wields with silent fervor,
And keeps her love from light of day
And those who don't deserve her,
And trust, it seems, the stuff of dreams,
She's buried far too far down,
In self-defense, it makes no sense
To ever let your guard down.

She has forgotten how to love
As she did way back before,
Before heartache had worn her down
Until she could take no more.
Perhaps someday she'll find a way
Her heart can again be free,
Til then, trust seems the stuff of dreams
Of some faded yesterday.
Maddy Van Buren Jul 2016
am I hard to please?
or are you just
insufficient
a machine, out of order
you've come to do less
for me
than I've done
for you
like a machine,
I will put you away
for someone else
to use
How life can bring us
So many different things
Some are coated in green moss
Some can give us wings

Life is more than science,
physics and signals to the brain
The lips most have a daring silence
And the ears listen with deep fain

Put down all the logical sense
Increase your senses and let them steer
The surroundings feel, so intense
Forget oblivion and your fear
I wrote this for a friend, he keep trying to convince me that people are all steered by our biological mechanisms, I simply can't be satisfied with that explanation. I do believe in science, but there has to be something bigger in this world of ours!

— The End —