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Richard Yeans May 17
This is too much.

Surely, I did something
To deserve things as such.

A lazy, glassy-eyed ****.
You haven't kissed me open-mouth
In well over 15 months.

The good guy routine
Well, it isn't a routine...
But I artfully mask my anger with
******* at night
And in the mornings caffeine.

I imagine
That when you look at me
I'm less man than machine.

But knowing me,
I'll continue to flog myself
For these crimes I haven't committed.
And maybe one day the gavel will fall
And I'll finally be ever-acquitted.
Richard Yeans Apr 11
"Billie Jean is not my lover."
But she tells me differently
In private.
Now, however, there's a baby
Carrying her impulsive libido
Inside of it.

A matryoshka of folly
Long nights of Texas ***** and blow
Multiple partners, that's fine, just tell me!
But please let your other suitors know
That you aren't the only one
Carrying their load.

My heart sunk, believe me,
When I drove over to your house.
And it pained me to see
Your face, for the first time,
Unable to make an expression.

One, two, three vicodin
Four, five, six at a time
Seven concluded your session.

I found you wandering the eerily-still
Even though it was a beautiful afternoon.
I love you so much, but please...
Don't die.  I'm not in the mood.
Richard Yeans Apr 11
I hung onto the back of your belt
Just enough to keep you from going splat on the walkway
Nearly 60 feet below.
You pulled against my grip.
Was it a test?  Because I’d fail
I just might dive after you and paint my brain
In streaks all over the trail.  
No, pull it together.  I’m here to care for you.
I’ll try
To put aside
My own daydreams of suicide.

You are everything to me, I swear
You will never have to walk alone
We’ll face this world of **** together
And battle the unknown.
If Jesus was real
And living down the block
Could I still be saved from death?
Without that rootless burden of proof
To leverage against the clock.

Perhaps, sin would be worse
Don't you think
If I jacked off thinking of someone's spouse
Knowing He was merely yards away
Peeking between the blinds of His own house.

Would He be a hero
Or a pariah?
Sometimes I imagine a political messiah.

Would He be throwing trash cans
Through the windows at Starbucks?
Punching Nazis on YouTube?
Or flying the American flag
from the tailgate of his pickup truck?

No, I'm thinking something more along the lines
Of an old man at the pond
Feeding stale bread crumbs to starving ducks.

Pascal's wager would mean nothing anymore
Since I could look this man in His eyes
And ask Him "What's in store?"

"Please don't judge me by my actions
If you really have a say.
I'm not a bad person, I don't think, it's
Just more fun to disobey."


If Jesus was real
And I had a soul to spare,
I'd tell him to mind his ******* business
And cut his ******* hair.
I just sat on the ******* bathroom floor
For 15 minutes
Listening to my breath faintly wheeze
Through the last cilia in my lung

I felt my chest rise and fall

I take notice of the cold-*** tile
And the ache in my back
How my right bicep is throbbing
From a dogbite last night
How my knees ache from years of fighting
And my head pounds like a church bell
From lack of drugs and nicotine

If happiness is the cessation of all desire
Then please Buddha convince me
That my desire to walk the **** out of here
Is more insane than sitting on the ******* floor
Doing nothing.
Richard Yeans Feb 11
What a wonderful night in LA!
I haven't had this much fun with you
In so long.  Babe,
We needed this.  

"Let me try your pasta".
No.  It is too eh-spice.
Ok, go ahead.  Try it.
"no, it's ok".

You know, you're so oppositional.
(Loving, gentle laughter)
I tell you it's too spicy for you
And you want it.
But if I say go ahead and try it
You don't want it anymore.

"*******.  Seriously *******".
That's a horrible thing to say
To your partner.
You see
A dog's behavior is a reflection on you, but
Dogs will be dogs.
"I'm not sure who has agency here".
"Well, it's clearly your fault that our dogs are fighting".

Roxanne is bleeding rivulets, and
Jeff has a neat, surgical hole in her snow-white scalp.
Steve is tired of your ****, and
His knee-****** now has a desert chrome shine
From being scraped across the floor.

"Please, tell me what to do and I'll do it".
Shut up.  
With every eyeroll, every sigh
A length of 18-gauge wire
Sadistically pierces my heart.

This is the third night in a row I've cried myself to sleep.
Maybe tomorrow will be the day it all works out.
borderlinepersonalitydisorder, narcissism, mentalillness, mentalhealth, anxiety, toxicrelationships, unconditionallove
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