I'm not very picky, unless faced with:
      Icky, sticky, pumpkin!

                Oh! How I glower!
                When faced with that sour,
                  Slimy, stringy, slush!

                          So I groan,
                                And I moan,
                                      Then I run.

  My arms flailing!
       My feet, slap, slap, slapping,
                          The cold, hard, floor.

                                         'Till a hand grasps my shoulder,
                                            And I'm dragged to the table..

                          Then, I'm pushed into a chair,
                                   And a spoons pushed into my hand,
                                      And that foul mush, is pushed into the spoon.

               That is forced down, down, down,
                        My gagging, unwilling, throat.

there is a light in your eyes,
a spark i once knew well.
may it never go out.

may your fire only grow,
may it keep you warm
through the winter.

how could i ever trust a stranger?
i don't know,
but
how could i ever look away?
i don't know.

You say art is alive,
and yet here we are.

Perfectly sculpted,
sure.
Precisely detailed,
of course.
Objects all the same.

Don't you see us looking back?
Gazing into me,
What do you see?

Concepts,
ideas,
philosophies,
reflections.

Reflections.
That's it.
Isn't it?

Wanting me to want you;
needing me to need you.
Holding your hand,
no matter how heavy it gets.

It's tiring,
reminding you what you already know.
Existing for more than your pleasure,
being more than a mirror,
just.. being.

I think it's enough.
No.
I know that it is.
Doubt only creeps in
when you look at me.

I am human.
I am a universe of my own.
When I feel your stare,
why can't you feel mine?
Have you already forgotten?

Your pupils are no blacker than mine,
no less of a lens to see myself in.
Don't you see us looking back!

Every time your eyes meet mine,
I see you.
I simply see you.
It isn't difficult,
nor should it be.

You were right.
Art is alive,
and I am no exception.

I’d forgotten
Or discovered

Your eyes like faded denim
The smile you’d try to hide
The way you like to tease me
Can’t make you laugh although I try

Like laying in fields of lilac,
tour Tassie attached to my hip.
I rang you like religion
Just to tell you about the trip

there are hard days, they are long ones
I bare just to hear your voice
When my head is filled with static
You’re cutting out the noise

Laying in a dingy tent,
staring at the Milky Way
You told me how you felt for them
the honesty cast fears away

We went to two different festivals
one day after the next
It felt like we were both there
But watching different sets

To wake up to you in winter
Samson whines me back to sleep
The mattress is barren without you both
But The bed’s too warm too leave

You send your love in lettered form
Like medicine in mail
and though the sentiment is old
I found relevance today

Sometimes I fret that you don’t care
How foolish and ambivalent
Sometimes I need reminders of
why I loved you to begin with

Dates, are either wrinkly
                          or juicy...

Mine wasn't that good as
             I spat out his tongue.

Dam, I only said Hi...….

Down and down I go this aisle with cart Oh hi man how are you? I’m fine that’s ‘ight and you I’m good thx yeah for me there someth? Oh yeah this here and this one pink envelope? well that’s from you know oh yes that’s one well fine okay have a good day yeah bye and off I go again for me? Yeah this I do not like him I try to keep him off my sight and mind but smile nice shirt oh yeah? just ironed well bye-bye pretentious ***** and phony also this is **** I should of said that next time sure for sure ensure the screech is pleasant to lubricate forgot après this finished howdy-rowdy for me smth no pardon c’est fine go by there’s really nothing poor old creep for him man’ years he here and not one sheet that’s triste but oh again this cramp should aim for loo ma’am après vous those thighs in nylon wiggle-waggle just like Bloom I am that day today but winter tho’ though onward batches envelopes and stamps hiya my mate how miles per day come forth that’s heyyy that is the one I yeahyeahyeah dumbf nonono he’s just like I like you like me obnoxious clown to grab and off this floor should be enough to from this height his gray to smash to mash this one is fine to smash to mash oh yuck this almost got me shhhhh
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Thump

The cake burned in the oven
The fridge broke down as well
The plumbing broke
& soaked the floor
This was the day from hell.

So much for cake & ice cream
So much for mopping up
I'm telling you, I have the flu
This day has been a flop!

Not gonna call a plumber
You know how $$$ goes
This happened on a Sunday
That's spendy doncha know!

I've HAIR that hurts, my buddy
I've such and aching head!
Is it a sin to just turn in?

I'll spend the day in bed!.

Catherine Jarvis
1/23/2020

In the in-between stage where there is just enough alcohol in my veins to try and convince me that what we had was good.
The sweet spot.
Too little or too much and all I see is the problems and why it ended in goodbye,
but here-
here I see “hey princess”-
all the “I love yous”
“I’d do anything for you”
“You’re worth it, no matter the cost”
and I know in an hour or two I’ll be thinking clearly again-
but **** right now-
I know why I stayed for so long.