When bad motives are assigned to your art
When you're perceived as trouble in the making
When your audacious is seen as disruptive
That's when you smile and keep on writing
[painting, making, drawing, singing...]

It was dark and cold night. Looking back and up, the moon
was a thin and useless crescent, barely visible.
‘What a wasted moon,’ I thought.
“A stupid moon,” I mumbled to myself as if to finish a conversation.
It looked deflated, artificial, soulless, and cold. Not poetic at all.

I’m coping with tough decisions
a victory and perhaps one martini too many.
Peter (my bf) called, when I was at Toads (a local bar).
We usually talk on Tuesdays at about 11.
It was noisy in there
I was a little tipsy.
He became a little irritated.
It didn’t go well.
Martinis and authority don’t mix.

I handed my thesis in today, 80 days early.
I've been working on it obsessively.
finger to lips, like a secret  I can be obsessive.
It’s a 60 page ‘first draft,’ theoretically.
“Can I turn in a first draft for your review?”
He looked surprised, “Sure.” I handed it over, and that’s that.
Every ‘first draft’ I’ve ever handed in has gotten an A.
“You’re CrAzY,” Sunny chuckled, “We gotta celebrate!”

“Please don’t hold the door open,” the librarian said.
I jumped, I hadn’t seen her sneaking up on me.
How long had I been standing there?
I’d been lost in thought.
I focused on her now.
She was 50 maybe, or a hundred—who knew?
Her face needed moisturizing badly,
her wrinkles were like cracks in marble.
She looked frowny.

Why is everyone frowny tonight?
“Sure,” I said, facetiously, throwing my arm up like the door was hot.
The door was now free to close.
And the world was a better place.
Once I’d turned and stepped into the library,
I decided It was too bright and too hot there.
So I left.

The second I was outside, in the refreshing cold, Sunny appeared.
“There you are,” she said, like she had lost something.
“You walk too fast,” and the girl with her laughed.
Sunny can always pick up a girl—it’s like she’s magnetic.
"Let's go home,” she added, “we’re going to pay for this tomorrow.”
She hooked my arm in hers and we followed the path,
the three of us, like the yellow brick road.
.
.
A song for this:
Drunk On Love by Basia
Data & Picard by Pogo

You were the number one my whole life,
You were there when I turned five.
We used to be best friends,
But everything someday ends.

We drifted apart over time,
You became more sour than a lime.
From heaven to war we went,
What was said I hope wasn’t meant.

I still love you and always will,
Even with all the bad you spill.
I stand tall when you talk,
Yet some words still leave me in shock.

I cry when the night comes,
The words hurting me are my mom’s.
Scared to speak to protect you,
Don’t have an opinion, that’s what I do.

Never give up they say,
Give it time for a better day.
She is family don’t cut her out,
But I don’t want to continue on this route.

I can’t fix things when you don’t care,
I suffer because of you’re how is that fair.
I don’t wanna lose my own mom,
Yet your presence won’t leave me calm.

Friends again just in my dreams,
It is exactly how it seems.
I write this to ease my mind,
To help leave hard feelings behind.

Only time will tell,
If we’re ever getting out of this hell.
Hope it is soon or I will quit,
But I will regret every bit.

First he left now so did you,
But he came back as I grew.
You left me because I am sick,
Became very distant pretty quick.

Now you don’t care at all,
All I have is our daily call.
We barely talk when I am home,
All the time I feel alone.

God give me a reason to try again,
I want to stop this deep pain.

Life is unpredictable
Flying in no direction like a bubble
One moment happy, one moment miserable
You dream of everything so beautiful and simple
Instead you were thrown from the cradle
You think everything could be a trouble
On the contrary, everything looks easy to handle

Hanging like leaves on fragile branches
Today may be hit by storms and haters
Tomorrow may be crowned with honey and goodness
You dive into a world full of lies
Be careful with sweet mouths and prejudices
Life is like a dice
There are always lots of choices
Maybe you should think twice

Attraction is a small and fragile thing.
We started with stolen glances,
in crowded halls, across a coffee shop.
I was glancing (I hoped he was glancing).

It was hard, we lived in a rushed way.
We were on schedules, we had routines.
I had doubts about having a boyfriend
but they fell away, like leaves fall off trees.

I’d been warned, "don’t saddle trouble."

But finally, feeling that we were
deserving of love’s rich value,
we came together,
as marble-hearted sinners
with the serpent's contempt
for God’s stable order.