#sliceoflife
Born a compulsive pessimist
we don't know how much time
is left
so I paint my lips day by day
and wear yellow dresses in the spring.
A gentle sliver of sun
peaking through the tiny window
people talk at the cafe tables
but their conversations fade
with the movement of
your tongue between teeth.
I drag my finger along the rim
take the steam in with eupnea
my cheeks are flush with life
and gentle longing
I smell like flower and vine.
You say something now
quicker with wit
than the brisk clicking of keyboards
an office away.
Straighten your collar
now I cannot help but think of
how you must look
cloaked by an emerald scarf
on a biting winter's day.
My skirt brushes my knees
as I prop myself to stand
and tenderly hold your gaze
as we whisper goodbye without speaking
and leaving that moment
like a last sip of tea
all the sugar
collected at the base.
Jan 31
Jan 31, 2026 at 12:24 AM UTC
The dawn raises its fingers
and unfolds the lotus petals, one by one.
The gleaming sun rose,
its scintilliating rays kissing the branches of the trees
and the singing birds perched upon them.
As the wind caresses the lotus creepers,
dragonflies hover over the lake,
and we sit together, in tranquility,
my head on your shoulder.
Perhaps this is what they call ๐ฆ๐ด๐ค๐ข๐ฑ๐ฆโ
the state of being with someone and simply existing.
Feb 8
Feb 8, 2026 at 3:54 AM UTC
Written: 6/21/2025
Sent as an emerging
after thought to work
the community pool.
Sent to the pool park
where 4 cartel kids
we're executed by
4 high school classmates.
I walk and was told by
a mother that there's
a needle lying on the
edge of the walkway.
I walk behind the pool
area and see the dimly
lit tweakers out on the
grass with
fentanyl aluminum foil
syringes laying in the
tan bark at the
playground.
Considered walking up
and punching the bald
tweaker in the face
when I see the kids
swimming past the fence.
But what would that change?
As I walked back to
the front I thought on
how the world is satan's
realm and
there isn't much I can
do to change that.
Sep 1, 2025
Sep 1, 2025 at 12:52 PM UTC
Written: 6/2/2025
The BOSS of the security company drove up.
I was standing talking to a guy they
placed as my partner for the 6 hour
morning shift guarding
the 4th of July firework boxes.
"Why are you two holding hands? 2 guards aren't suppose
to be together."
and after my senior citizen partner
talked my ear off for 3 hours about his
extensive work history and how much he hates
his ex wife
he proceeded to throw me under the bus.
"Well I told him boss! I told him! I said park
on the dirt mound and you didn't listen!"
The old man said as he threw his arms out.
Then the BOSS proceeded to chew both of
us out.
I looked at my 71 year old partner and
quietly told myself to never trust this man and
keep it professional.
When the BOSS drove off that old coward
apologized over and over.
Even when I got in my car to drive to the
dirt mound he tried stopping me by walking
in front of the car to keep apologizing.
I then drove around him, got out
and stood on the dirt mound waiting for
my time to be up.
Yes, it's sad sir that you lost your oldest son
to a heart defect at 30 but you've had
71 years to get taught to take responsibility
but me and you reader, we both know
they won't tell the truth and most men
can't bother with things
like that.
Jul 31, 2025
Jul 31, 2025 at 9:57 AM UTC
Lets feel
'till we all run flat
feel nothing
Take me back
when I could feel
hit the restart button
and it would work.
Jul 3, 2025
Jul 3, 2025 at 1:17 PM UTC
Fighting Spirit
To fightโ
You need balance.
To balanceโ
You require
a platform
to stand upon.
Pull out the floor beneath you,
You have nothing
when you're pushed downโ
unable to get up,
Turning the ground beneath
Into seeping sand,
that keeps you on your knees
With nothing to stand on.
My fighting spirit
has vanished.
No longer
Can I pull the wool over my eyes,
pretend I have ground beneath me,
make the wind my friend,
pretend I can fly.
This foundation
that once held me upโ
came from voices
that made me feel protected,
hands that held,
ones that made me feel included.
They were meant for meโ
and only me.
Quietly,
the wind turned cold.
Hands turned pale,
afraid to touch.
Scared to let the bones bind
and the voices ring.
All that can be done now
Is finding new souls
That can push me
to build something
Thats built for growth
Shaped to showโ
How far ive come.
Helping me evolve,
With every brick
That goes into place.
Maybe teach people who surround me
What it means toโ
Fall and rise agian
Forge something impenetrable
Never lose that fire inside of you
To keep living
Keep failing,
But still be able to get up
Not a dent in your armor,
Proving you dont give up.
Restore a foundation thats a mine,
Brick by brick,
Making back what you lost,
Assemble what I lost
Only this time
Something only I can unravel.
Jul 2, 2025
Jul 2, 2025 at 3:18 PM UTC
Running out of pages,
these wordsโ
they turn into
a jumble of thoughts
no one can understand.
A work of art,
running out of ink,
that never came to be.
Rootsโ
they never blossomed,
they withered away,
drying up
under a pile of soil.
I'm ripping out pages
in anger,
clinging
to words
I might not even believe in.
One by one,
just to leave them
crumbled,
dust,
turningโ
into sand.
The wind picks it up,
flipping to the next page,
thatโs already starting to crumble.
My pen
starts to write
on its own.
Jun 2, 2025
Jun 2, 2025 at 5:39 PM UTC
This phase in my life,
It's something like a blackout.
No light in sight.
But still...
searching for it.
And gasping,
Gasping for...
air.
May 28, 2025
May 28, 2025 at 8:10 AM UTC
The house smells wonderful,
Golden and buttery as this morningโs delicious sunrise on our front porch,
And your eyes twinkle as I venture a first bite.
โPretty good, right?โ
Itโs a quesadilla and itโs perfect,
exactly to my preference.
Warmly brown and crisp on the outside,
Cold sour cream mingling with too much hot melty cheese and chicken and all the fixins.
A real knock out as far as quesadillas go.
I smile with my eyes and happily munch,
not especially hungry but I know you are.
You spoke this into existence,
A master of your own love language.
In many ways, I am fed.
.
Ingratitude does not become us;
I eat of your hand and rejoice the offering
As my brain whispers:
โMy love, please leave me to myself.โ
These days I am as two ships passing,
So rare an hour is it to shake my own hand,
Cull my own thoughts,
Breathe my silent breath unaccompanied.
Spinning sugar and spinning wheels are my god-given gifts.
I use the first to coat my tongue.
The second hangs in the air between us.
โBetter than good,โ I say,
Moving to rest,
To dream my silly dreams,
To paint my silly heart across the mercurial landscape of shared memory.
I am my best when I end my days like a spoiled Pomeranian:
Seated on a cushion
Worrying a bone.
.
The mysterious clicking and clacking of the HVAC tip taps merrily to the rush and whir of the electric heat.
The impression of a kiss still lingers on my cheek
In the quiet.
The house smells wonderful,
Golden and buttery as this morningโs delicious sunrise on our front porch.
It is a miracle to build a structure with your bare hands that bends without breaking,
and supports your weight without shaking.
Dec 22, 2024
Dec 22, 2024 at 10:15 PM UTC
I met her today.
Slow breathing, sweaty palms.
I feel so wet like it was rainy,
No it wasn't.
Am I scared?
Oh no but don't want to make a fool of myself.
That dark made it easier!.
Try to calm yourself...
she smelled like a bush of red roses,
her smile was like a star dashing through the sky.
She is soft like silk.
She had me thinking my whole future in a blink.
I want to spend my life with this beauty,
Her face, I still scramble for the right words to discribe her.
She is a goddest.
My eyes have behold a pinnacle of beauty.
Selecting my words
I hope I said nothing wrong
I HOPE I IMPRESSED HER
because I may look calm outside
But I was shaking in my mind
May 23, 2023
May 23, 2023 at 7:20 PM UTC
Sacrifices,
Slumber less nights,
Caffeine-fueled days,
and unwanted bad weeks
Have become my strength
To keep me loaded and
decided.
Apr 2, 2022
Apr 2, 2022 at 12:17 PM UTC
There's an addict in the attic,
and a trans girl in the tub;
There's an immigrant, Hispanic,
and a criminal in love.
There's a shaman burning incense,
and a gamer taking shots;
There's our upperclass equivalent,
and a noisy group of thots.
And the lady takes our livelihood
and somehow still stays poor,
so please make sure the lights are out,
and always lock the door.
Feb 27, 2022
Feb 27, 2022 at 10:12 AM UTC
๐ฐ๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐, ๐๐'๐๐ ๐
๐๐.
๐ฐ๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐, ๐๐'๐๐ ๐๐๐๐.
๐ฌ๐๐๐๐ ๐
๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐,
๐ป๐๐๐๐'๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐.
๐ป๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐
๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐,
๐พ๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐.
๐บ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐,
๐พ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐
๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐.
Nov 17, 2020
Nov 17, 2020 at 3:22 AM UTC
A small girl
With dreams and ambitions
Stuffed in her backpack
Humming, she waits while staring
At the other side of the station
Where people, different ages and stories
Wait for the same train
She is alone, it doesn't bother her
It is life that is in front of her
Life that is one way and short
Life that passes by in a blink of eye
Life that is worthwhile, even if painful
Life that is young, yet old
Life that is the way it is meant to be
The train she's waiting for came suddenly
It's time to pack up and leave this station
Life must go on, even if it rains
The memory of youth and a simple world
Isn't just the place for her anymore
This is for her own good, destination bound
To a new home
Adulthood
Nov 18, 2019
Nov 18, 2019 at 11:09 AM UTC
School? Tsk...Tsk...Tsk. What a spectacle.
I hear the bell chiming already- ding...ding...ding
Then sick and scowled, we'd walk right to were we were meant to be. "Meant to be". Heart pounding 'cos if we were late!? Or in the wrong place or mixed up the wrong dates!? No...no...no that was trouble. "The bell is the voice of God"ย ย The priest(s) would say, each day, "and when it rings you must obey" A bell? I thought, the voice of God? I chuckled.
I remember the shadows of the seminarians watching.
The irate stare and feign smile. Weren't these men of God!?ย ย They came in new and good, but give them a day or two and...and my God!!!
There were rumors of bizarre things that happened behind closed doors, no one "saw", but walls. I know someone was there. Had to be! When the last bell rang, and the lights faded out. People became monsters. It changes people. And it would, you too because real monsters are in the light and you too are one of them.
The mass either left you hungry and empty, guilty and filthy or just feeling good about yourself for no good reason because some preacher said: "Hark, all worries will be left behind, and all disappoint too, will be gone forever..."ย ย It was the same thing, day in and day out. One man's crime was all mens'. And our tongue just clung to our mouth because who would dare raise a finger in anger to a priest? God's delegate.ย ย There were rumors.ย ย
There were rumors no one would admit they saw until dusk when the light-out hour came and we streaked together muffle and scoffled about everything. It was either that or we tried, however, we could to get food. Some even looted goods, black and white was the code and we hid it safe as gold. You won't get it. Sometimes people would go as far as...signย ย
Dong...dong...dong
Heavy eyed and tired. The bell snaped you from your dream back to this hellfire. And before you blinked you were in class
Then smell of dry papers and ink, sound of pens screeching and then you see.
Students hastily walking to where they are meant to be? "Meant to be!?"
Teachers, few, pretty as rose and others old and cold. All claiming they had gold to impact on us. Most times, the men, well tucked, some tall and maybe bit lanky.
The priests were like ghosts. Some went as far as saying Godly. Their bellowing white-blue cassock whipped by, and while some would sigh, others would hush and some would rush to where they were meant to be. Meant to be. Now ghost quiet, staring from somewhere was the priest ghost silent...
.
Oct 11, 2019
Oct 11, 2019 at 12:00 PM UTC
Droppin' on in,
It's been a minute since we've talked,
Your hair has grown,
Your face has faded,
It used to be brighter
If memory serves.
Have you been well?
New job? New love?
Only if you don't mind.
Have you heard that new song?
Have you seen that movie?
How's that startup idea gone?
Where has all the time gone?
We should talk again sometime.
Or not,
Whichever you prefer.
Jul 25, 2019
Jul 25, 2019 at 4:53 PM UTC
I am struggling to find my place in a world that is looking to plunge a knife between the chinks of my armor.
A world that will **** as quick as is it is to defend.
May 6, 2019
May 6, 2019 at 12:29 PM UTC
I want...
To write...
A happy poem...
But I am...
Still waiting...
For the day...
When I...
Will be...
Truly...
...Happy.
May 6, 2019
May 6, 2019 at 12:28 AM UTC
She is a queen,
The colour of love,
The symbol of affection,
The goddess for all.
She owns a kingdom,
With different shades to portray
Each with a meaning,
Do with it what you may.
She is an enchantress,
But I do not respect her.
She might be mesmerizing,
But that's not how I see her.
She could help you win the king
And also a princess.
She could help you win some hearts
But, oh she is treacherous.
She deceits you with her beauty,
And betrays you with her scent.
Once if you cut her,
She is nothing good but dead.
Knowing all this,
Only then do I ask,
Darling, is this what you want?
Roses?
Feb 24, 2019
Feb 24, 2019 at 1:08 AM UTC
Little girl peeling in Orange in traffic
with your favorite fingernail
I love to watch you attack
tear off the skin chunks and save them in a jar in your car because the smell makes you feel so far away
it's very clean-smelling
This cold little orange
it's a dragon ball in dragon hands
Nov 20, 2018
Nov 20, 2018 at 4:02 PM UTC