"frazzled" poems
Oh how I hate
this time of year,
with the stupid songs
and holiday cheer...
Annoying bell ringers
outside the store,
and the tacky wreaths
hanging on the door.
Cardboard calendars
filled with waxy treats,
ice and snow making
death traps of streets.
Frazzled parents
spending more then they should
on entitled kids
who are far from good.
Fake smiles & wishes
in the "spirit" of it all,
the empty shelves-
the crowds at the mall.
The hour long line
to see Santa the phony
who falsely promises
an x-box or a pony.
Having to gather
with family who annoy,
gifting another cheap
Chinese-made toy.
Fire hazards
strung with tinsel and lights,
tensions leading
to fun Christmas fights!
Secret Santas-
holiday parties for work-
ugly sweaters
making you look like a ****
The stress of having
an enormous list
and a tiny budget
just makes me ******
No, nothing seems jolly
or merry or bright...
Oh how I can't wait
till post-Christmas night!
Dec 7, 2017
Dec 7, 2017 at 9:24 PM UTC
the amount of melanin in my skin often seems to conjure up some controversy so when I sit down to write and I see my hands, my light skinned not quite black but surely not white hands I think about the privileges thrusted upon me and when I begin to write I feel my hair against my back, my curly ***** but not quite ***** hair I wonder how what's on my head could make what's in it so frazzled
I often frustrate myself because I feel like my writing often centers around the fact that I am a woman and I am colored
and the fact that when I say I'm colored some look lost
in fact, in the film, for colored girls
Thandie Newton's character says "being alive and being a woman is all I got, but being colored is a metaphysical dilemma I haven't conquered yet."
and I found it frightening how relatable that was to me, being that I'm not quite almost a woman and not quite almost colored
but when I look at my poems they reflect that I indeed am
even though I'm lightskinned and I'm 16 and according to my white friends I'm, just like them because, as I've discovered our definitions of what a black girl sounds like and acts like and is like are extremely different
and I guess that reflects on who we've been introduced to
I have cousins and aunts and grandmothers and sisters
who represent what I believe emulate what a black woman is
and these white kids see what the media feeds about how black women walk and talk and act and lack
see when I picture a black woman I see beautiful smooth chocolate skin full lips round ******* wide hips and a smile as brilliant as her mind
when these kids picture a black woman they see ***** hair dark undesirable skin soup cooler lips and a mind filled with ignorance
and this is where my struggle begins
But in every ethnic group there is good and bad
and I am sick of black women only being associated with the bad
the fact that when most non blacks think of what a black woman is, they imagine an unintelligible mindless sassy loud mouth is over whelming to me
if you're skin isn't light enough or your behind isn't big enough you're only "pretty for a black girl"
I not only want to raise but destroy all expectations society gives black women
but I cannot do this alone
because we are smart and we are beautiful
we are troubled and we are strong
and we are one
once we stop tearing eachother down we can all be one
and I'm not sure why god blessed black women with so much beauty or why I'm so blessed to be one or why he put this determination in me but I think I will recognize it the day the world recognizes how beautiful are we.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 4:20 AM UTC
I used to find myself in the reflection of that water,
And cleans myself of troubled thoughts
At rivers bend , claim name as abandon daughter,
I whispered into every tear my shame and greatest fears,
That after all these years that I had made it clear
That no love was real, and that I should persevere.
To have my heart torn out, torn before me.
I soothed it’s hot wounds in the lapping wake
In the ripples that my teardrops make
Examined as the flesh grew mark,
Record each pain in pink puckered scar.
I used to find myself in the reflection of that water,
Strip bear my inhabitations lay bare to naked skin,
Laugh at indiscretion, death, and fear when I dove in.
Dove down into the waters where silence overtook,
To noise and sleepy slumber of the flowing living brook.
I used to concentrate on beauty and the confidence life took,
And drown my insecurities and grin at boys who looked.
I used to find myself in the reflection of that water,
In the moons bright light astride the bank
when summer nights grew hotter.
I used to let the water pull me to the center of myself,
Let it hold onto me when I was lost to everybody else,
I used to sing it lullaby’s , until I found myself,
Now I’m getting older, they say the waters gotten cold,
And I have gotten harder but that I have gotten bold,
And I know I’m apt at swimming but there are some
Bridges I have known, but sometimes I think of running water
Over my frayed and frazzled soul.
But a storm is coming closer with terror in its clouds,
Hiding in shrouds of chaos , with rain that’s falling down,
It’s tearing away the sandy banks and washed my water out.
It took away some part of me and held it tell it drown.
I wonder what I can see of myself in the wake of all this change,
Now all that’s left to do, is start wading through the pains.
And fallow thoughts that whisper “if I see myself the same”,
And I’ll remember I used to find myself
In the reflection of that water,
How much she cared for me
And how much I was taught there
And how everything has changed.
But I have left my mark there.
Nov 8, 2012
Nov 8, 2012 at 7:47 PM UTC
entice me with your language
not your body but your soul
****** me with your words
sounds of trumpets as a whole
words, rolling off your tongue like Dew on blades of grass
not the typical talk and whispers of your amazing ***
challenge me and contradict
please lets keep this real
do not agree on everything
nevertheless of how you feel
see your mind is what is left, and ultimately the hook
lets talk of music, art and good times past and maybe even a book
****** me with your cleverness
caress me with your wit
to hear such entrancing thoughts has left me quite a bit - entangled in your uneasy tone, but frazzled evermore
completely distraught on how you taught me to leave things at the door
make love to my deepest thoughts, delusions, and desires
for that excites me more than all the daring red hot fires
Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 5:16 AM UTC
Silence.
That’s the
First thing you
Can hear. The sil
Ence is just so loud,
So real, so close, so true,
What everyone needs sometimes.
That’s my favourite part of being there,
Underwater. The world passes away, and
You can hear yourself thinking again.
You can just simply: Be. For once.
The feeling of oblivion, the pressure of
Unreleased air, the escaping
Bubbles to the top
Of the pool, ocean, lake,
The clear water with sunlight
Shining through the depths till it
Reaches you, the feeling of
Oneness with the world
Its past, its present
Its uncertain future, the
Feeling that everything will be okay
No matter how hard it seems now. The
Feeling of weightlessness as your hair undulates
Through the clear water, your body buoyant, your mind
Finally clear. The stillness that overtakes your very
Soul as you stay at the bottom, holding on with
All your might, not wanting the moment
To ever pass, knowing it has to even
As you hope you can breathe,
Impossible as it seems. The stillness
Permeating every aspect of your being, from
Your previously weighed down limbs to your dancing
Hair to your stressed mind to your frazzled soul, giving the
Much needed calm from a busy day. Pushing off the
Depths, feeling the sunlight get stronger, the sur
Face grow closer, feeling the nostalgia to your
Second home where you can see clearly,
Even with your eyes shut tight, your
Breath held. Where you are you.
Underwater.
May 17, 2012
May 17, 2012 at 9:42 PM UTC
I am an altar boy inside the Church of
Continuous Wasted Opportunities.
Smell that pungent incense?
It is most definitely all that it seems to be.
This God’s gift to mankind is what the three
wise men were really trafficking—bringing
forth a dank Exodus unto the Savior’s parents.
They didn’t inhale the serpent’s lure, of course.
Rejoice, one and all, across the land!
Hallelujah, all ye indigo children of the desert!
Now, a reading from the Book of Wardo,
verse four, passage twenty:
“And it was told that the ancient Aryana region would
offer up such magical wonderment, derived from the
sacred Kush bush, assisting the holiest disciples who
prefer a mystically passive respite—for these blessed
aficionados represent the completely frazzled and yet
cautiously chosen few.”
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 4:46 PM UTC
Our brains are jellied by the surreal.
Wires disconnected, rearranged,
our circuit boards frazzled.
The reflections of human faces and bodies
scrambled signals.
Eyes not looking past the crooked fingers
or freckles.
All you see is the dirt, the rust,
you can hear only the creaking joints,
and the groans of your muscles.
But your audience, your lovers and families,
they don't know about those awful sounds
they only see the flowers, hear the music,
a melody of glowing bare shoulders
and a chest filled with life,
a hundred systems,
working in unison to hold up your head.
I never liked the way my hips stuck out,
my ribs, flesh pulled taught against the bones.
Or my pale skin,
I glow in the sunshine.
Baking soda, salt,
awful tasting elements alone,
but they both get mixed into the batter,
overpowered by golden eggs,
sinful sugars,
and the cake itself,
baking soda and all,
well,
it's ******* delicious.
Dec 7, 2013
Dec 7, 2013 at 4:34 PM UTC
in the brightest corner of the forest trees,
rested a gentle and pure autumn leaf
he never quite asked much for anything
just water and a home from his strong tree
but alas! winter was close to being the season
the leaf heard from the tree that he had to leave it
stunned with deep worry, the leaf begged for a reason
but the leaf heard the tree and he had to believe it
so one by one, the little leaf observed his friends
being ripped from the branches to their curious ends
but this leaf stayed strong, he did not waver or pretend
yes, the leaf stayed strong, he was the last one left
but alas! the wind came along and asked the leaf why:
"why do you stay here when the days have gone awry?
pretty soon, dear friend, you'll have to say goodbye
make it easy on yourself and don't live a lie"
the leaf replied: "you would not believe all i've seen
my friends, they've all left, and i'm left here to grieve
i cling to my home, you see, i have to believe
that i'm more than a passing, more than a leaf"
the wind answered with a startling gust:
"is it the tree you believe and not me you trust?
you'll be fine, dear friend, you will not turn to dust
it is a new life, you'll see, but you will adjust"
the leaf retorted, with a shake of his sides:
"i'm afraid for my home, my friends and my life
wherever i may go, will i make there all right?
the world is so big and i'm in such a fright"
the wind replied, "the world is never perfect
at times we must leave that which makes us certain
the harder our path, the longer we must search it
this home will belong to others; they soon will learn it"
the tree, trying to sleep, finally awoke from its dream
"dear leaf, don't you know, you must let go of me?
we've had some great times, but i will soon freeze
we must part ways; i will have other leaves"
the leaf became frazzled, fed up with his options
he changed colors for the tree; the tree didn't want him
"why did i spend all these months to be forgotten,
to be cast out so lonely, afraid and unwanted?"
the wind said, "fear not, dear friend, you may feel lonely now
but i am wherever you are, and i won't let you down
i am your new home, and when you feel me around
just know i'm with you, and i'll lift you off the ground"
the leaf resolved with a steady hesitation
he had lost many friends but gained one with patience
"i am still uncertain but i trust my realization
that new beginnings are endings of greater elation"
so in the brightest corner of the forest trees,
floated away a gentle and pure autumn leaf
where he was to go, he couldn't say with certainty
but he had the wind to carry him, and that was all he'd need
Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 2:36 AM UTC
She had a frazzled sort of look about her. Wispy hair fell into her eyes which were watering from the allergies she often complained about, the ones that caused her nosebleeds so heavy, she'd nearly faint from blood loss. But beneath her red eyes and curly hair was this pale, pink cheeked girl who listened to punk and wrinkled her nose. She was like an antique. Something worn down, beautiful and full of secrets and memories, that you'd find under a pile of books in a dark corner. She was sarcastic, flighty and judgmental, constantly angry with the world and culture that she'd been ****** into. She spent all her time forcing beauty and laughter into people's lives so they wouldn't see the shattered pieces of the world and subsequently herself that she tried to hide behind her back. Others might see this as sly or deceitful but it wasn't. Her lies were the selfless kind, if such exist. She wanted to protect people from the world that wore her down so cruelly and quickly, she became an antique person by the age of fifteen. This frazzled, determined, lovely girl may not change the world, but she changed my life.
Jul 10, 2013
Jul 10, 2013 at 12:01 AM UTC
"That's it! I'll take it to the scissors myself!"
Mangled, wrangled, tangled mess,
meandering tendrils coil and cross, clump.
Split ends,
knots so impossibly tied the eagle scout is left bewildered,
sun damage: fried, frizzled, frazzled, frayed.
Broken teeth in a gasping comb,
choking brushes enveloped in the furling mess,
hairspray, fruitless, face it:
(Another) Bad Hair Day.
"That's it! Today's the day!"
The call is made, the appointment scheduled,
you sit and wait.
X's mark the calendar, the day is nigh,
your do's judgement day is at hand.
It's time to settle this.
The day before, you wake up,
absentmindedly getting dressed, drudging through routine,
mirror's the last thing you see.
Crusty eyes suddenly open wide,
as split ends seal and knots unfurl,
sun damage heals and combs sing ceaselessly.
The day is met with a new life,
and the dark days of yore seem like a past life,
as this sunny day seems like all there is.
You laugh at what now appears to be such trivialities,
"Twas a bad hair day! And merely so!"
You allow yourself such a shallow deception.
Your hand grabs the phone, your fingers make the call,
your voice makes the cancellation--
"How could I have been so foolish to resort to such measures?!"
You hang up and scoff at yourself,
a hearty laugh in jest at such hastiness,
tossing and swishing your luscious mane to and fro.
You allow it to slip through your fingers,
on the cusp of the cure,
as the bad hair days truly outnumber the good (you know it to be so).
For the next day will come--
You'll greet the mirror with that heart-wrenching sigh,
in visible anguish at the chaotic mess that encroaches upon your head.
Don't let a good hair day fool you;
make the call.
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 12:13 AM UTC
“Don’t you give up on me,” was the comment you made when
you looked in my weary brown eyes. I felt you on a whole other
level, that came to fruition because of your truth. I feel something
for you that I’ve never felt before, it’s foreign to me and I want to
learn your native language. I am grooving to the vibes you send
only to me, and my ultimate desire is learning to move, privately to
your passionate embrace.
Melting like dark brown sugar every time I see your face, I find it
quite amazing how you are able to read me, just by feeling my
inward thoughts and my frazzled emotions. I can feel the softness
in your spirit, it drives your intent to make Me your woman and
sealed my fate to bond our heart. You are the King of my heart;
mind, body and soul. My special magician and the only man, who
can pull my heart strings and summon me into your lair.
After we talked about our feelings, I closed my eyes and felt what
you felt. Ripples of emotions flooded through me, raining; spring,
summer, fall and winter. These seasons of change have a rippling
effect, of passionate thoughts and compassionate dreams. I feel
you everywhere inside of me, these vibes we share are pure
electricity. When you told me don’t give up on you, you made me
feel like melted brown sugar. A sweet dark potion that was only for
you, that only you my King, will sample from. We share this intensity
that can be felt across oceans, an intensity that radiates and fills the
gaps, that unlucky fools have thrown away. You make me melt like
honey in tea, that soothes my heart and eases my mind.
Jan 29, 2021
Jan 29, 2021 at 10:43 PM UTC
Busted lips.
Frazzled spirits.
Hollow eyes.
Promises full of lies.
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 6:00 PM UTC
Our beginning is totally cliche and overused
High school acquaintances, both moved to start a career
A friend request you sent, by my bubbly nature I accepted
Conversing you persuaded me into tossing out my digits
Completely engulfed, a strong friendship we made
Life struggles, we conquered in the first week of dating
Fast pace, we were cruising and agreed, "hey let's get married"
Two weeks it took to say I do
Life smacks us hard, we never miss our groove
Babies, babies, changing your direction
Glance into your heart, how profound it is to be parenting
You were not ready to be a daddy
Your ego grew and I always forgave you
Young, drunk and dumb was your history
Separated and unplanned, awaken you became
You still wanted control and I said here take chunks of my energy
Now frazzled and drained, I am on the brink of leaving
Blurred, I only see spotty portraits of that white cake
The sweet taste smudged against my face and the way you licked your lips
Time loves to cause a stampede with memories
Brush the hair from my eyes, I feel the hail falling as I cry
Is this what "and they lived happily ever after" means
May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 2:37 PM UTC
so kindled in sear summer July,
Upheaval churning in my most stoic feeling frazzled, I am,
Thank GOD for Good Riddance- putting on a thinking cap
And my Good Instincts prevails..
Brooding over and praying in silence-
PEACE and Faith too ; sustained my intertwined...
guts good 'ole meshed up toiled my life.
Like a web-gathering digging out into knitted vine..
Gotta dance w/ grace even if someone ogling..
actin' out like zilch..
out there mesmerizing.
Give it all out for sake o' Inamorata
And fervor like ne'er be in paroxysm, a day or two ..
Rhyme with the melody o' songs
And Sing it all out on top o' my lungs
like there's no one's eavesdropping
Amusingly enough as I wantonly be wanted
And feel hurting no more,
Sleeping in minty pillows, sobbing no more...
At the time, eventide dusk comes,
That Beauty; rests indeed, bellows
Live and let live like it's a bed o' heavenly velvety Roses in this cauldron earth!.ensnared my thoughts together oftentimes,
Through waylay conflicts
So akin to as DRAMA Momma!
That another can tote to my table.
Getting' along just fine witn MYself..
thus restore my sense of panoramic mindset; - my BLESSINGS- scrutiny on my studies and my cherub babes who cares as whippersnapper!
Thou Loves me more than
of enormous superficial stuffs-
things that won't last-
I'm in solitude for soul searching'.
I am of thy belief that
everyone needs time...
To just Be! @ peace with just MYself!
J
Jul 30, 2011
Jul 30, 2011 at 11:38 AM UTC
I'm just watching tv
Innocently engaged
But I can't watch this anymore
After seeing that woman's face
It looked too much like my mother's...
The shiny, porous skin...
The red, wet, blue eyes
The veins standing out
Her hair, damp
Frazzled
Worried.
I'm scared to remember her face.
Sometimes,
I really miss my mom.
I miss her red cheeks,
Her frizzy, fluffy brown hair
Salted with grey...
I miss the funny sweaters she used to wear so often
The clogs she wore that clunked through the house
The sound of her needles,
Clinking together.
I miss her handwriting...
Her grocery lists
Her almond-shaped nails
The rough wrinkles on her knuckles
Her pants with the funny elastic.
And although I am almost 20 years old
I can still remember how it felt
To sit on her lap
To have her arms encircle me,
Hold me
Protect me
Love me.
And though she's left me
Shamed me
Hated me
Spit at me...
I cannot forget how it felt
To love my mother
And to be loved back.
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 11:36 PM UTC
Well, darling, we've surpassed 3 a.m.
And 4 a.m....5 a.m....and 6...
Talking about our life together,
Only theoretically of course,
And I haven't freaked out. Even when
You said the word "marriage," I didn't
Blink an eye and I took it in stride.
And when you said "children," I smiled;
An image of dark haired babes screaming,
Us two standing and laughing because
We just don't know what the **** to do.
My hair would be frazzled, hoisting one
On my hip as I sing lullabies.
And our toddler would be sitting
On your lap, chattering as your eyes
Widen, overwhelmed with her questions.
How I love your dark beautiful eyes.
I don't picture a white picket fence
With a manicured lawn and flowers
But I envision the two of us
Becoming older and sassier.
We are infinite for a while
Until I wake up one fateful day
And I realize that you have passed on.
But I gather the grand-kids around
And with a glimmer in my eye, I
Tell our story sparing no details
Because someone has to remember
When I am dead and gone from the world.
And when I close my eyes for the last
Time, I smile and say: "Remember,
Darling, when we were just pretending?"
And my soul will depart my body,
Find and join yours in our own heaven.
So answer me and please be honest;
Baby, will you live this dream with me?
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 2:32 AM UTC
my heart is a violin
with too many strings
play my heartstrings
let your fingers pull my emotions
rest your hand on the back of my neck
i cannot make anything beautiful on my own
but sweetheart you can make me sing so softly
hold me close
dear i'll always love you
feel my skin, polished-smooth
warm under your hands
and know i'm yours
calm my frazzled strings
soothe my worn-out pegs,
drawn tighter and tighter and tighter
straining so deeply to hold
the strings in place
let me cling to you
let me take solace and peace
for but a few moments
my heart is a violin with too many strings,
played by too many people
my strings have been drawn taught
my body has grown tired
my music has grown dull
but with your gentle hands
encompassing the surface of my heart
i can learn to trust again
i can learn to sing again
and sweetheart i can sing so sweetly
for you
Apr 30, 2018
Apr 30, 2018 at 9:56 PM UTC
The thousand dreams and burns and hopes and scars
That crimson phantoms, deep within the skin
Graze and raze with, betrayed by eyes like stars,
Shift and ache. Too long I looked within
For on this present dark’ning deathless day
The thousand hearts of man so pierced my soul;
I saw them all. Wild, frazzled from the fray,
Dragging, too weighed by life’s relentless toll.
Sweet sonder, teach me by the sky-wide sun
The thousand lives that glow with redd’ning force,
That burst like vineyard vats with seams undone,
That reel like sea-lost ships that miss their course.
But then that chilling truth in my mind fell:
If I can read their hearts, they read mine as well.
Sep 20, 2018
Sep 20, 2018 at 2:16 PM UTC
I try to tell myself that I am in control this time
Hoping that you will feel some kind of wonderment or downhearted, one second thought about me
I will not call you
I will not give in
I will not get my heart broken again
I want to use you to show you how I felt
But I can't
Because despite all the disappointment and letdown I could never hurt you
I could never ignore you
Although while I am over here over analyzing and nearly overloading my cranium with what if's and thoughts
You have the air of nonchalance and disinterestedness while you pop into my life again without warning
Can you tell that you get me all frazzled?
Is this purely for your own amusement?
Why can't I figure you out.
Why do you interest me so?
Why do I feel like my connection to you is the strongest thing I have ever felt.
No I must be naive and disillusioned
Till the day I completely cease sparing my time and thoughts to you
You will be the winner
Even if it is a bad thought you are still consuming my mind
Confusion and Love
Spite and Wonder
They all are the same
Same being you
Jul 14, 2013
Jul 14, 2013 at 5:50 AM UTC
Dazzled, frazzled, surprised, and scared
are words that do describe
how I feel when you're near me
when we hug and our lips touch
you see the real me
I'm childish and I'm nervous
I often get very jealous
and I blush quite frequently
I'm in love with you, with all my heart
While you simply. Lust. For. Me
We've shared such tender moments
I sometimes think you care
the slightest bit about me
While my fingers run through your hair
But then we've separated, once I felt so close
and to my surprise I feel my hearts demise
while the memories haunt me like ghosts.
because we both said forever, only I had meant
forever I will love you and strongly I'll lament
and if I could change a single thing
the only thing I'd say, to experience your love again
is worth suffering this pain
Oct 21, 2010
Oct 21, 2010 at 1:53 PM UTC
battered screws stripped bare by
a hundred thousand terrible twists
from an unsteady, inexperienced,
or overly excited hand
nearly rattling out of their proper positions,
hanging rather loosely
to the last threads of their holes.
fan them as they dangle,
fandangle!
but a blue gust from beneath
the anonymous and unidentifiable bursts
the shriveled scraps of low-grade steel
from their brittle perches
and
then one,
two,
threefourfivesixseventyeightmillion
clatterings invade all audibility,
heightening --- accentuating --- underscoring
each miniscule soundwave
until there is not much more than
white noise, crack-
ling like a ruddy transitor radio
i probably never had
but only equate it to for lack of
another more proper, perhaps more appropriate,
even more...profound (?) word, or, whatever;
hardware indignationum!
what abuses we dish these inanimates created by us for us!, and, yes,
i follow all syncretic trends to
their phenomenal (and fusional)
morphological ends. if i didn't, how could
i know the neutered from the neuterer?
attend to the screws;
the debased, bemused, once-bedazzled little bits strewn on the floor and
frazzled. go on,
get 'em up, up
off the ground.
Sep 26, 2012
Sep 26, 2012 at 1:27 PM UTC
This shady-bar
gave you more ***** than mixer,
cheap spirits & rot gut elixirs flowed,
some did lines of flake on the teak.
By eight, most dates were sloppy drunk,
buzzed, frazzled to the gills,
schmoozing the feline-walk,
talking **** listening to
Floyd or Skynyrd.
It was a circus of sorts.
Back in those days
we called the cops 'fuzz',
they'd make their rounds
every couple of hours,
it made it look like they were
using tax-dollars wisely,
but we students knew better,
******* establishment.
The parking lot was a mix
of racetrack & boxing ring.
Cars jammed, roared,
cruised, honked
their way
through the fistfights.
Once, I saw two sweet-babes,
real rough-cats scratch and claw
themselves to near death.
The flowered-blouse
on one was ripped clean off,
one of her ***** hung out,
it looked bruised.
Blood streamed down
both of their faces,
ruining their mascara.
When I look back,
it's quite amazing
any of us survived
that freaking place.
Now come to think of it,
the last time
I saw my buddy Marcus
was outside that
nasty-drinking-establishment.
He was ******* amongst
the drunks & excrement.
I really wonder how he survived,
if he made it out of that city
in one piece,
alive.
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 5:20 PM UTC
you left me shattered
like a battered up baseball
the stitches are frazzled
your eyes glossy and dazzled
you lurked through the blue lagoon
in search of the secret blue light to my heart
i was alive and listening
the harsh pounding of your heartbeat
the pulsating of your veins in the brisk
the sea was yelling and the sky was smoking hot
we waited for them to intertwine
and got ****** into the catastrophe
the betrayal of our open wounds and founding fathers
can we sink beneath the deep sea, just you and me?
Jun 5, 2012
Jun 5, 2012 at 8:52 PM UTC
Flora and fauna hides the maze,
In the concrete jungle of corporate race.
Disarrayed and frazzled thou shall not,
For thou shall seek a roadmap of top notch.
Jun 28, 2012
Jun 28, 2012 at 11:34 AM UTC
I was twisting a water bottle
Shredding the label with my fingernails
And keeping it away from your enthusiastic dog
I’d been here before
And I would be here again
Holding back tears as an unlikely friend held me together
I had too many loose ends
And you tied knots with an engineer’s efficiency
For all your teasing
I’d never realized you were a nice guy
Taking me in like the silly wretch that I was
And letting me stay until I felt I could hold my head up again
I convinced myself I had you figured out
Tall and tough but secretly compassionate
A closet empath who impressively tossed words around a notebook page
I let everything bouncing around in my head
Tumble out into your scarred hands
And I assumed you had done the same
So that I could finally see the truth trapped in that lofty mind
It’s funny
I’ve come to realize that I never really knew you the way I thought I did
You’ve always played a concealed hand
Showing me the occasional queen of hearts
But only when you wanted me to see
It’s disappointing
Because you know me too well
I dissected my heart muscles so you could read the struggles scrawled across them
Sitting in your kitchen
All those days
I showed you all the insecurities etched across my skin
Raw and red and burning with the desperation
To be noticed
I wish I could have taken some of your scars
In exchange for all my scribbles
You patiently accepted all the scraps of myself I tossed at you
And I wanted to return the favor
I wanted to read whatever you had penned across your ventricles
I wanted you to flay open your mind so that I might understand
I may have wanted too much of you
Forgetting that not everyone is a frenetic tangle of feelings
Forgetting that I’m just a frazzled, insignificant girl
Who wants to save the world on force of will alone
Sitting in your kitchen
From time to time
You told me you believed in me
So I believed I could do it
I only wish I’d known enough to do the same for you
Mar 28, 2011
Mar 28, 2011 at 5:02 PM UTC