My favorite cat is very sick
I did, I spent, to find out what is wrong
to help him, my heart is breaking and I walk,
hike around Briones Park, even though I haven't hiked in over two months
and the hills are steep and the anxiety is great and I take quarter pills of clonozipan
along the way as I finally get the courage to call the vet for the lab results
just like last year when I walked three hours before I could stand to call and it was worse
and I know now and walked on, finished all those clonozipan and made it up the steepest hills
adrenaline driving me and I have no more money and I could mess around at the loan place
but finally I get the courage, as usual, at the end of the four hours, to call you
and there is the first shred of concern and then the deluge and you are hurling accusations
at me and this is the price I pay always for your help and I know I am not perfect
and I know I must live within my means but my cat,
I begin to cry and sit down on the mountain side, a child again
and you lash into me, for my huge problem with cruel words that make my psyche bleed and
you remind me so much of my X husband, as I sit and cry and hikers and joggers go by
and you make your point but that is not enough, you must drive the dagger deep
deep into my sternum and twist it around until I am reeling and bash my head
against granite and I know I will be reeling from this conversation for days and why,
why couldn't you ever have this passion against the people who hurt me, at this job,
in my marriage, why did they get such respect and peace when I am bashed against the rocks, blood in my eyes, salt water stings, tangled in seaweed and a wave crashes over me
please stop I beg you.  stop.  you don't have to be so cruel
which makes you angrier and the angriest you ever have been in my life has been
over money, why, such a Jew?  Like your mother, like my X.  This has taken on a meaning
as I drift away from the conversation as one does when pain is so intolerable that the body shuts it out and dissassociates, and I am up high floating now above the city below
an ironicly beautiful landscape and you lie, yes father, you lie and say you are
struggling in your million dollar home with season Opera tickets and trips all over the world
and I think, I feel so at home, just like my X, so much like my X.
And yet, I am changing and a  voice inside me, drunk now from being knocked in the head, I tell you to stop, that this is not the best way to talk about this as I did
to that guy I rejected who hurt me, and my boss, and I feel, I am changing
and I will fight for what I value, what I love
and on the way home, tears in my eyes, I buy the medication to keep my cat more comfortable and he responds and I think, this is worth it
I am worth it, and you father, may never change, but I can
and I can change most importantly, my opinion of you

I do, i remember,
When i first saw your face,
Such manly, tough expressions,
Melted into a kind of grace,
Before i knew it, my skirt was round my hips,
And through my shirt,
You ****** me with your lips.

So breathless and hot we were that day,
We stripped in record time,
We fumbled desparately with eachother,
Two ***** bodies entwined,
A connection happened, as we moved,
And grinded hard and fast,
The climactic bursts of passion, babe,
When you exploded, at last.

The shower we shared was *****,
Ironicly so pleasant,
I bit your neck and licked it,
Then you gave to me, a presant,
I gasped in awe with cowardice,
But you were gentle, babe,
My hands against the shower wall,
As abundant love you gave.

Our tired bodies ached for more,
But loving slumber prevailed,
And as the setting sun crept by,
We slept under darkness' veil,
We both awoke to wandering limbs,
Love and lust entwined,
We knew that time was running out,
But time didn't care, or mind.

We held eachother close that night,
Aware of the coming dawn,
When you would leave me here, my love,
Alone, in tears, withdrawn,
The only consolation is,
We met again, and again,
And decided we were soulmates,
In with love, out with pain!!!

The Mistake

My life,
Was a mistake coupled with regret, depression, and sad emotions
My life has been a sad existance since before I came out my mothers womb.
My birth spelled death to my mother for, she was given a 18-life sentence.
I was a mistake so I must pay
For all of my life my feelings have been cheerful and upbeat.
But my laugh was used to deceive what my eyes cannot.
My pain is unforgiving and is my penitence.
I must suffer alone cast away in a small cold lead box
Being left to rot, forgotten about because I never should have been born.
I’m not apart of this world.
Niether heaven or hell awaits one who was never supposed to exist.
I was born from nothing and shall go back to nothing
So why?
What is the purpose of a life like this,
I say as I ‘m kneeling in my small lead box.
A boy with no name always acting cheerful and upbeat.
Now a man refered to as John Doe lonely depressed and with a wish for a long painless sleep.
Suddenly he has a realization for the first time, he had existed, he had lived.
He felt he was not worth it so his friends he pushed away
He is the reason  for him being alone, for now he knows this hell that is his life is of his own mental construct
The bitterness and cold he placed upon himself was to much to bear.
All the emotions he thought he never had steadly came flowing out of him in the form of his first tears.
His tears full of regret and warmth lifted some of the burden on his heavy heart.
He could feel the heat of his own body as his once frozen heart began to beat.
His first time feeling alive ironicly was his last
His heart unfrozen could not take the burden of his past.
He died a slow painful death in that lead box with screams unheard.
Alone, not missed, no one shed a tear, because no one knew who he was
A nameless man forgotten about in time
Almost……almost like he never existed.

(You can listen to my reading here: https://soundcloud.com/rusad-1/yellowind Though be prepared for my accent...)

*

Sit down please and have some tea.
Do not you mind a fairytale?
That, actually, appears to be
a legend from some distant dale...

There lived, they say, a wicked man.
That's not a very fairy start,
but that's the way this tale began.
So, lived a man with cruel heart,

His name was Yellowind, I think.
Oh no, that's surname. Jack's the name.
He always had an awful stink
of rot, determining his fame.

Though he looked noble, hat and suit,
his manor was quite nice and clean,
and very big. And hearing flute
while passing by was a routine.

And once whilst dark and stormy night
a dreadful shriek was heared at his.
Then thunder struck and deathly light
from windows shone. Ah, frightful 'tis!

In moment manor disappeared
and Yellowind'd been never seen.
Though lands of his are still quite feared,
as if they're in some way obscene...


So, how's your tea, my dear guest?
Another cup's here, if you will.
And story? It is not the best?
That's just a start! Now sit and chill...

A couple centuries has passed
another story hit the world.
It wasn't, actually, that vast,
just local ****** of a sort.

A house in the Oldton Hills
was bought by couple with a kid.
The deal was made, they paid the bills,
but soon they all regretted it...

The father found an ancient book
and dropped some blood on opened page.
His mind was crooked, he quickly took
a rake and killed his kin in rage.

Realization was quite quick.
He made a loop and hanged himself.
Police concluded he was sick
and put that book back on its shelf.

Ironicly, their surname's Rake.
As if the Fate there sat and grinned...
And — I can swear it's not a fake! —
The seller's name's Jack Yellowind!


The tea is cold now, I suppose.
Another cup then, here we go...
So, did some mysteries expose?
And are there things you want to know?

A man with only holes in purse
but rich with energy and mind
began his searches of this curse
as he could stop it, he opined.

He asked all villagers he found:
'It's Yellowind', the answer was.
He asked police, they were aground:
'He was insane, that is the cause'.

It didn't stop our brave explorer,
so he went out in the hills.
He reached the place where all that horror
Came into being with those kills.

The house was there, with doors unlocked.
The man came in and reached the shelf.
The book, then second... He was shocked!
Those cults! He really had to delve...

His nose, unfortunately, bled,
some drops fell down on a page...
He didn't ****, oh no, instead
he went into the cultists' cage.


His fate was horrible since that.
Those ****** rituals, you know...
And how's the tea? You call me 'brat'?
You cannot move? And thoughts are slow?

What were you thinking of, my dear,
whilst passing by a yellow house
in windy hills. Oh, is that clear?
The rite is close, put on this blouse.

Oh, some more questions, by the way.
The person reading this, what's up?
You sure your health is all OK?
And do you know what's in your cup?