#selective
Lucy and Betty sit under hair dryers, flipping through magazines like two queens plotting.
Lucy
(sighing dramatically)
I’m twenty-six today.
Betty
(perfectly serious)
And I will be twenty-one next month.
Lucy
(pauses… lowers magazine)
Betty… sweetheart…
You’ve been “turning twenty-one next month” for the last five years.
Betty
(flips hair)
Consistency is the key to a healthy skincare routine and a believable lie.
Lucy
True. But if we keep subtracting years, soon your birth certificate will just say “pending.”
Betty
Mine already does. The nurse couldn’t write fast enough — I was too fabulous.
Lucy snorts. A lady nearby gasps. Betty smiles victorious.
Lucy
Anyway, between your eternal youth and my magically reversible aging…
there must be at least two desperate men out there
looking for two beautifully attractive lies.
Betty
(smiles like a saint receiving a vision)
Amen.
Lucy
Honestly, if any man asks our real ages—
we should just tell him the truth.
Betty
(shocked)
Lucy!
You want to ruin the mystery?
I’m not telling the truth until the wedding day.
And maybe not even then.
Let him find out during the eulogy.
Lucy
Fair.
And if he asks about me, tell him I’m twenty-six.
Betty
Today?
Lucy
Every day.
They clink their coffee cups like champagne flutes.
Both
To youth…
to beauty…
and to men who don’t ask too many questions.
Hair dryers whir. Lights fade. The lies remain flawless.
Nov 18, 2025
Nov 18, 2025 at 8:04 PM UTC
God did not mean to give me a mouth.
He meant to give me hands, eyes, a heart
but not a mouth.
When I speak something in me bleeds. When I-
I speak, and my eyes fog over like glass.
I can't see you standing there, I'm so sorry. Show me again, where did you put the bread?
I feel like a thing that needs to be forgiven.
I feel so fragile sometimes.
I am trying to understand the
weight of the evil inflicted upon me.
It is heavy. I never understood that 'till now.
I wasn't meant to carry this weight, but I do.
I wasn't meant to speak the way I
so often will, but I do.
What can I say anymore?
I can't write without bleeding. I can't speak without knowing it is a wound. How can I communicate without tearing something open? I'm afraid of shutting up and looking for my language. If I decide to leave behind every word that hurts me, would I have any words left? Will it **** the little bit of connection with people I have left?
Listen.
I hope you forgive me for the little sadness I'll inspire in you.
I am afraid, but don't pity me. I am blossoming and becoming something else.
This, apotheosis, this becoming closer and closer to my own light.
It is a process that requires allowing death.
What must die must die. Allow grief.
I'll leave you with this:
If you slept next to me, it would be
much like sleeping with a letter under your pillow.
Every night, every night...
*"Here I write to you a list of cruelties I am capable of.
May you never forget:
I have made the flower so that it may blossom, and I have made the lamb so that it may eat it.
Blessed be the one willing to become.
Here, the flower. Here, the lamb."
- God*
May 27, 2021
May 27, 2021 at 10:15 PM UTC
The law is only for the poor
To discipline the poor
To punish the poor
It was made only for the poor
The law is a Labyrinth
Made by the king
To entrap his slaves
Depriving them from liberty
The law is an earthly hell
Created by the demons
To punish the sinners
A lifetime of sorrow
The law is a boot
Wore by the privileged
To step on the needy
Crushing their hopes and dreams
Aug 31, 2020
Aug 31, 2020 at 12:15 AM UTC
awoke to something unexpected
someone outside, my dog detected
so pleasantly, I was surprised
it was a friend who get me high
I haven't really seen this fool
since in the days back in high school
time passes by, a lot has changed
but most of it remains the same
it makes me kinda sad to know
so many people come and go
small circle, but the ones inside
have earned their welcome to the pride
the ones I value and respect
I'd lay my life down to protect
I find few people worth my time
but if I had 10, i'd give them 5
and I know they would do the same
I don't play silly social games
it's not that i'm not very vocal
i'm just selective when i'm social
I dreaded getting out of bed
to suffer the monotony, instead
a visitor reminded me
to value friends and family
Jan 19, 2019
Jan 19, 2019 at 12:03 PM UTC
Inscribed upon silk
Is your raw humanity.
Lessons have taught
That such delicacies
Cannot be caught.
Unless uncovered
From the tomb
In which truth lies.
l.v.s
Dec 23, 2016
Dec 23, 2016 at 11:10 AM UTC
I found the key
To being free
Easier said than done you see
The enemy
Looking at me
Through memories of past that won't let me be
Reality
Is so tricky
We can pick and choose what we see
Minds are finicky
Part of their beauty
Balancing being teacher and trainee
Aug 30, 2017
Aug 30, 2017 at 11:42 AM UTC
monetary means conquered
all
lots of dollars were the power
ball
dominance bought by wads
galore
how they pleasured in the
store
suit cases of currency given
for treatment ever preferential
which ensured they'd be viewed
with more favourable credential
the complexion of a situation
can
change
when there's bucks proffered
in
exchange
business was done
this
selective
way
and it always carried
the
mega rating's
day
Jun 21, 2017
Jun 21, 2017 at 8:39 PM UTC
Unlike my life before the accident,
I now have short-term amnesia,
But you are stuck here permanently.
Tujhe bhoolna to chaah bhi nahin sakta,
Kuch aise bas gayi hai dil-o-dimaag mein,
Fark nahin padta tujhe kuch, oh zaalima.
Nov 27, 2016
Nov 27, 2016 at 2:06 PM UTC
Take this string in your hand
Let it guide you away
Past the boats, past the ships
So we can go and play
Let us forget about the blood shed
Each and every cry
All those we have mourned
All the sons that have died
Let us sink into our beds
Fall into a deep slumber
Reach into rustic coffins
Blood has soaked the lumber
Let bomb shells be lullaby's
Because this is ending fast
I'm sorry sweety, I need to go
There is but one more draft
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 5:56 PM UTC
A lucid world
in which I forget
to continue remembering.
Jan 22, 2016
Jan 22, 2016 at 7:58 AM UTC