This rain reflects my somber mood
These clouds, my clouded mind
Rain and wind, the only sounds
No happy birds
No laughter
of playing children
in sunny weather
No happy thoughts
No laughter
on the inside either
Only exhaustion
pulling down the edges of my mouth,
holding this tired body
under a familiar weighted blanket of defeat
Tomorrow the rain may stop
Tomorrow the birds may sing
Tomorrow the sun may shine
So I lie in wait
holding on for tomorrow
for happiness to once again be mine

She felt the weight of his words
Even as she waved a hand to dismiss them
Even as she smiled
And rolled her eyes
Even as she turned away
Bounce-stepping down the hall
She felt the full meaning of his words
Crushing her into the ground
Into dust

I did not run away
I ran to

To the end of angry criticisms masquerading as love
To freedom from the dark cloud of your untreated mental illness
To standing on solid ground instead of walking on eggshells
To the time and space to discover my strength, my skills, my autonomy
To doing everything you taught me I needed you to do
To seeing my sincere happiness reflected on my son’s face
To the luxurious solitude of a queen bed all to myself
To waking up with a smile
To waking up

I did not run away from you
I ran
to me

She is The One That Got Away
This is who she is to him now
Who she is to herself

It is newly tattooed on her soul
This new identity
She became this despite his best efforts
Countless words to trick her into believing she was The One That Stayed
Clever words, to confuse her and cloud reality
Soft words, to flatter and ******
Sharp words, to cut, to make her bleed out her resolve

She used to be The One That Stayed
She played that part for many years
Until the stars aligned illuminating the path to a new role
A role many have died trying to get

She made it out and got away
Not all at once
Slowly
Piece by piece

First, her heart
Until she was numb
She felt nothing during his declarations of love,
Emotionless during his promises of change
All his tearful pleading simply echoed in her hollowed out chest

Then her body
Fleeing to the strong arms of her sisters
To the safe house of a friend
Then to a new home among long grasses and tall trees

Finally, her head got away
Like sand from an hourglass, his lies emptied out
Making room for beauty,
the healing wisdom of her helpers,
the power of her truth

Yes, she is The One That Got Away
The judge issued an order to legally make it so
The officers took him away when he refused to believe it
Another judge declared it again
And her new last name tells it to the world

For all new tomorrows
and all of today
She is and will remain
The One That Got Away

One step up
Reach to the left
One hand after the other
Grip. Slip. Crunch.
On the ground,

Stretch and pull
Out of a right angle
Heat and ice
Hang in distortion
Pressing into a straight line

Bones rearranged
Cracked and torn
Bent out of form
Numbing pain zings
Restriction in movement

Melt into blank stares
Therapy, therapy, repeat!
Doctor calls and late-night sprawls
Shape a new reality.
Bending into strength

When I was little, I fell into the deep end of a swimming pool.
While I can't have been under for more than a few seconds,
it felt like hours before anyone reached out their hand.

one of these days
I am sure
of it
you will go to your
grocery store
and find
a dragging —
a trail of
blood and
cheap wine
leading into the room
behind the register
and they will be eating him
man, do people hate each other

God, when will you end the cola wars

Yesterday she said
Tomorrow I'm gonna be a better someone.

So now, tomorrow is here
but today time is not on her side

She is gone

_

I tore my hand from hers and I stumbled backwards feeling disgusted.  Feeling disgusting.  

Soiled, oily.

Five bottom-shelf screwdrivers and a pitcher-and-a-half of cheap beer briskly informed me that my stomach was a little too happenin, and they were gonna go ahead and go.  

Like, NOW.

I ran towards the bathroom, elbowing several people out of the way as I went.

Several much larger, and leather-clad Mowhawkians.

Moshers who had been standing in line for at least 15 minutes.

How I didn't get punched I will never know...

I careened into the stall like a methhead pinball and got ready to lose my liquid lunch.  

The watery hi-***** and natty light must have seen the same sight I did, because they decided they didn't really have anywhere to be after all.

I propelled myself away from the nightmare cesspool masquerading as a toilet, mostly by force of horror.

Luckily my legs wanted the **** out of there as badly as the rest of me, and they shakily complied.

Rocking side-to-side like a punch-drunk prize-fighter in Round-9, I bulled past an eight-foot-tall stick-figure goth-person, and it hit me:

I am going to have to tell her....

I was suddenly alone in the club.

...I am going to have to tell the love of my life that another woman kissed me.

The electricity went out.

Not in the seedy South East D.C. nightclub, but inside me.

The room was still, full of the life-like statues of dancers.

Lasers, frozen-fire, suspended in darkness and smoke.

The color had drained, like a rerun on a black & white TV...

I could only watch as my life crumbled in my mind's eye.

In the midst of this noisy, noxious, overcrowded *******.

In deafening, rhythmic silence.

What passed for air was sweaty-*****, and midsummer dank even in winter.

But the air around me became crisp.

Not crisp like the wind in February,

Crisp like the silence in a tomb.

Fitting.

Because I won't survive this.

I didn't know it yet, but this $5 cover open-bar might as well have been my tomb.

Sealed as tightly as my fate.

With a kiss.

you'd be PUT INto confinement
in a lunatic asylum
for posting a pic. some view as being spiteful
[for some info, check the notes]
doing what Navalny
does, you'd pick up a fine in
the sum of a few tens of mills of rubles &, aside from
that, your bank account would wind up frozen
[not to mention later things happened to him]
that's that nutless power-overdosed fiend
being put out sim. to a bone when
you fell down during drunk strolling
better to block up your front door with
something, 'cause for some content getting posted
you'd get it chainsawed by ******* special forces
in the dead of night; after the unwanted guests have stormed in
you'd get toppled to the floor, then
you'd be submitted to beating
the whole picture's having your little kids screaming
then some of your stuff becomes forfeit
later, it turns out you're not the right person
they've left with your property stolen
that's the rotten syst. working
autocracy's growing