#ick
I can tell,
that you really think,
you're the ****
...Yes,
oh, yes.
Oily slick, and steaming,
and I wouldn't filthy my dainty hands,
to scoop you, into mine.
Yet, here you be,
gracing us graceless maidens,
with your polish,
and presence.
...But you're nothing like a gift,
to me.
Your fingertips, wander
into the intimate
folded creases,
of dry, withering palms:
mine,
and they circle.
But my hands,
are persimmons.
Fussy fruits,
which rot,
and recoil
at the uninvited touch.
...So don't you ******* touch me.
...Unwanted.
Parasitic.
It's infectious,
in the way you think
your smile, is.
But my body,
is under the red tape.
if I spring back,
and spit, in your eye,
cobra-like,
consider it an act, of martial law.
I'm an entire police state,
and I don't fall beneath,
your jurisdiction.
...So don't you ******* touch me.
...Creepy ******
I'm not your mirror.
I won't blow cutesy kisses,
or bat kitten lashes,
back, at you.
I'm not here to tell you,
what you want, to hear.
Something behind my eyes,
is ticking,
in measured intervals.
You don't hear a sound.
You won't feel the impact, either
til the shrapnel, hits,
and you float, facedown,
Narcissus like
in the Dead Sea,
of these salty blues.
...So don't you ******* touch me.
... Unwanted.
Yet, here you are,
Playing Pictionary,
on a shrinking canvas,
with probing fingers.
They caress my heart,
and fate lines,
in sensuous tickles,
And my stomach,
flips.
I feel... sick.
I feel sick.
I feel sick.
They tease, my flesh,
in long,
gangly brushes,
like leggy spiders.
I couldn't be more repulsed,
unless they crawled,
into my open sores,
to lay their eggs.
I feel...sick.
I feel sick.
I feel sick.
...Unwanted.
The flat line, of my mouth,
is a no-solicting sign,
on a sealed door, of a face.
Why are you trying the knobs?
Why are you poking the locks?
You're uninvited.
Unwanted.
...So don't you ******* touch me.
Apr 4
Apr 4, 2026 at 9:20 AM UTC
I’m sick. I’ve got the ick.
this wasn’t my idea.
My Grandmère had some little orphans over - a couple had coughs.
They were cute and vulnerable - they seemed to have subdued fun.
I caught it - the baby flu.
I thought I could fight it off but it got the upper hand.
Grandmère called a doctor and he was here in twenty minutes.
He asked to see my chest. “If you won’t laugh,” I granted.
I got the COVID rapid antigen test, No.
The rapid influenza diagnostic test, No.
A Rapid RSV antigen test, No.
“You’ve got what everyone else has,” the doctor said.
“Or you have something else.” He added.
‘I could be a doctor,’ I thought.
“Do you want to take a minute to talk to an AI?” I asked.
He gave me some steroids, so my fastball will get better.
Between coughing fits, I suggested a medically induced coma.
Anyway, it’s official - I’m sick, something nasty but nothing in particular.
He gave me Hycet (cough syrup) a yellow, cherry flavored opioid.
Five minutes after I took a pinky-finger dose I stopped coughing.
Something, somewhere deep inside suggested I cough.
‘Nahh,’ I thought, not now.
Gotta go, I’m very sleepy.
.
.
A song for this:
Make the world go away by Eddy Arnold
Jan 29
Jan 29, 2026 at 7:48 AM UTC
Heat. Sweat. Heavy warmth.
A puff of Summer's hot breath
Drives sleep from my mind
Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 2:45 AM UTC
It was the way we were two people with the same heart beat-
the same wave length-
that’s what I miss.
I miss knowing you were in the same room without having to look for you.
Now the silence is deafening- it’s how I imagine it feels after conjoined twins are separated.
I used to be able to tell how your how day went from just a look,
and now I battle with myself to send a text because I don’t want to bother you.
Jun 3, 2018
Jun 3, 2018 at 8:21 PM UTC
I think that there will be some people you never lose feelings for.
Not completely anyway.
Regardless of the circumstances, that spark remains year after year.
Like one of those candles that reforms from the melted wax.
Always ready to be relight-
just waiting to see if that spark burns bright enough again to warrant a second chance.
Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 10:07 AM UTC
There are men in this world that agree with your jokes.
Men that believe women have too many rights.
Men that believe women are too dumb to have the right to vote.
There are still men who believe that I should thank god for my large ******* as my husband will be happy. As if they were created for my husband's pleasure.
Men that believe my ****** should also belong to my husband. And that I should take cat calls as compliments because hey "that guy wants to sleep with me."
There are even men out there that believe I shouldnt be talking public speaking classes and should be spending my time in home ec because we all know "a woman's place is the kitchen." And that I shouldn't be pursuing a law degree when all I really want is an MRS.
Well I believe a woman's place is in the "house" and the Senate. And I used to think you were there fighting beside me, not across from me.
Now- you're egging on the movement to take my rights away.
That's why your sexist jokes aren't funny.
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 8:41 PM UTC
I tend to run when I am not reassured that people want me to stay. Normally this isn’t an issue with us- you were always there as a reminder that I was loved and needed just the way I was. But the situation has changed, you remind her of this fact first and me secondly- if you get around to it- and lately you’ve been forgetting. So I feel that it is time to jump ship, and I’m terrified that this time you won’t even notice me fleeing through the exit.
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 6:59 PM UTC
He is loyal, my god is he loyal, to a fault really.
Don't abuse this quality like I did.
Don't push his buttons and test him limits needlessly,
yes he will stay. Even after you yell and scream,
don't.
He does have a temper. Sometimes it is scary.
Don't match his anger with yours.
Just sit him down and help him calm down.
He will apologize profusely for scaring you.
His anger turns to fear quickly,
it is a delicate scenario.
Be patient with him,
I may have taught him how to love,
but I also left scars.
He is idealistic, he will plan a future with you,
if you're anything like me, it will be before you're ready,
just be honest with him about it.
The worst thing you can do is shut him out,
be honest with him and you will get honesty in return.
Most of all, love him.
Love him hard, and with everything you have,
because he deserves that.
Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 10:25 PM UTC
Don't get me wrong,
the mushy- gushy, shy tender first moments of love are important.
But too many people have spent their lives writing about it.
Comparing the beginning of love to:
budding flowers,
sunrise,
summer,
the list goes on and on.
I say this not to be critical, as I too have spent hours writing about first encounters, and awkward yet tender first kisses and the beginning of love stories.
But I will spare you another poem about the honeymoon phase.
Society teaches us that "love" is always romantic and it's not real if it doesn't look and feel like a Nicholas Sparks novel.
If we aren't feeling butterflies and being swept off our feet, then it isn't worth our time.
Or, that our partner is wrong for us, if these attributes should fade over time.
However, I have learned that society's version of love, is the version that sells, it's embellished to attract the masses.
At the end of the day sometimes all love is,
someone who checks up on you,
someone who asks about your day and is genuinely interested.
It's the person who has your back through thick and thin,
who would never abandon you because they are angry or disappointed in you.
It's time we as a society look a bit deeper than the surface of such a complex emotion and understand that love isn't always about blushing and stealing kisses in the dark.
It's also about having a hand to hold, when you feel like it's you against the world.
It's time we let the honeymoon phase become a perk, but not the definition of love.
Feb 29, 2016
Feb 29, 2016 at 6:14 PM UTC
Wonder, worry, anticipation, fear.
Like a tight rope walker, I stand on a razor thin wire between too pushy and too distant. Too nosy or indifferent.
You’re finally opening up again, like a flower in the spring, but my over watering or cold spurs could **** it.
I have this bad habit of overthinking and seeing every bad mood-as my fault, or something I can totally fix.
How do I tell you I still want to give you the world, even if I’m not it?
I want you to be happy, even if it’s not with me.
From day one I’ve wanted to protect you from the horrors of this cruel world and that hasn’t changed my delicate flower.
So a tight rope walker I’ll stay, until I topple.
Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 7:26 PM UTC
He said he finds it odd,
That such pretty eyes could shed
So many tears.
I told him I find it strange,
That he found these stained eyes
Pretty.
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 3:15 PM UTC
I still hope for the best for you even though there is no future for us.
Not anymore, you made your choice, and I made mine.
Still miss you sometimes though- there are a lot of memories here.
Someone will crack an old joke from years ago, or comment on how long my hair has gotten,
(I haven’t cut it since that time you said you liked my short hair)
Here’s to hoping we both find our missing puzzle piece someday soon,
the longer it takes, the more I start to think it’s still you.
Dec 2, 2015
Dec 2, 2015 at 4:53 PM UTC
Leave me alone please
I can't handle
Any more of
This broken record
Of your voice
Playing in my head
You have stained
My thoughts
And my words
I want you out
But I also want you back
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 1:55 AM UTC
There is not enough ***** in the world
to help me forget the feeling of your skin on mine.
The burn in my throat is nothing
compared to the sting in my heart.
The innocent kisses,
are the ones that hurt the worst.
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 3:53 PM UTC
Yet again, I find myself here.
Walking into the lion's den.
Unafraid, unarmed.
Fully aware of the consequences.
Putting my life in your hands again.
As fragile as a baby bird,
hoping you'll take me in.
Knowing, all I'm really doing is,
putting my head in the lion's mouth,
and praying he's not hungry today.
Aug 4, 2015
Aug 4, 2015 at 7:18 PM UTC
They say when you stand in front of an ocean,
the person you think about is the one you love.
But I see you, and her, and them.
I see you moving on,
I don't see you fighting for this..
I see you off in college, making "college mistakes"
girls with names you won't remember a year from now.
And I see me,
still stuck on you.
Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 8:26 PM UTC
It had been over a year since we had even been together the night you called to say I love you.
"I do still love you" became the rhythm my heart pounded to.
I felt light as a feather.
Yet it felt wrong.
And that's when I realized,
I no longer loved you.
I guess life is just
Funny that way.
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 1:06 AM UTC
Losing you was like jumping off the high dive.
At first I was in free fall.
I felt nothing.
Everything was calm.
Just atoms floating through time and space.
Then...
FLOP
Like hitting the pool stomach first.
The pain radiated out to my entire body.
No limb left unhurt.
Stinging, aching, unable to get over it and
Just climb out of the pool.
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 9:05 AM UTC
I started smoking thinking I could burn you out of my throat, but now I watch the smoke coil and float. I'd never understood the phrase "gone up in smoke", but now it makes total sense. Here one moment gone the next, without a trace. We caught like a flame and went out just a quickly. Our romance was a slow burning candle, that one swift blow burned out. It's been a year and the smell of your cologne makes me look around the room for you. Even though I know you are no where to be found. A candle with a burnt out wick, wont relight no matter how hard you try, you just get burned.
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 5:02 PM UTC
"Fight for the things you want in life."
"Don't be afraid to climb that ladder."
"Don't give up on your dreams."
These are the things I was taught as a kid.
But, none of them prepared me for losing you.
The rules change when it concerns love.
"Stop fighting for someone who isn't there."
"Move on, you are only hurting yourself."
"There are other fish in the sea."
I know all the lines, read all the "get over him quick" books,
but I'm still stuck in the don't give up mentality I was taught as a kid.
I want to run up to you, and whisper "I love you"
I know it won't change a thing,
but I wish it would.
I "moved on".
Dated a great guy who respects me, understands me, cherishes me.
Never lets me go to bed angry, always communicates with me
(something you ****** at)
Yet his love isn't enough.
Maybe first loves never die,
and maybe that's my problem.
Or maybe I'm just a dreamer who never learned to get her head out of the clouds.
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 2:57 PM UTC
Some days I want to hate you,
Some days I want to love you,
Most days the thought of you just leaves a bitter taste where your lips used to be.
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 4:43 PM UTC
And it’s true some days I still can’t breathe when I think about you.
I’m filled with envy that she is the object of your affection.
I see red, and my throat constricts.
But then I remember,
you are only one person.
One love.
There will be others.
It’s not the end of the world, even if it feels like it some days."
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 2:04 AM UTC
Maybe I was meant to be alone.
I don't mean a solitary creature.
Friends are great,
people need interactions-
without them, we go crazy.
But, maybe I just wasn't meant for this-
happily ever after stuff.
That's not to say I haven't been in love.
But it never lasts.
Even in the happiest moments.
I question it.
Maybe I'm better off alone.
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 10:23 PM UTC
We've become a generation where-
suicide is glamorous-
self harm becomes a game of hide and seek
and eating disorders become a competition.
But nobody talks about the friends, and lovers who get left behind-
when things go too far.
The people who shudder at gun shots in movies,
and the people who can't walk past rope in a hardware store;
without choking up.
The people left with nothing more than memories.
Stuck remembering birthdays- and death days of people who left us too soon.
Friends and lovers, who were helpless in their efforts to change the situation for the better.
Those who are left behind, look for someone to blame-
ourselves, the world, society-
but in reality we will never know who to blame-
or if we could have even made a **** difference.
Our generation romanticizes pain and suffering-
"where it's all fun and games until someone gets hurt."
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 7:27 PM UTC