I'm just writing to write.
In the mood to write.
Words keep coming into my head but I make no sense of them.
Sentences pop into my mind but they mean nothing.
They're just words.
Why does it matter how many I say?
Why does it matter how many I don't say?
I don't want to be loud anymore.
I don't want to be giggle-y.
I don't want to always have a smile on my face.
I don't want to pretend that everything is okay.
I don't want to put on a fake happy persona.
I want people to see me as a real person.
Not a person with a childlike laugh.
Not an insanely happy or peppy person.
I just want to be seen as me.
A girl who has real emotions.
A girl who CAN handle it when you tell her things.
I'm not immature.
I'm not under-developed.
I'm not a genius.
I'm not simpleminded.
I'm just in-the-middle.
I'm in between, like every one of you.
I know, I'm rambling.
But is that okay?
There are so many words bottled up in me and some of them are so irrelevant.
But I want to say them.
I want to express myself but I can't.
I want to be me but if I am me, no one will understand.
"Why aren't you happy like your usual self?"
"Why aren't you giggling when I light-heartedly mock your laugh?"
"Why aren't you smiling?"
But then.. Maybe there will be that one person who realizes that..
I'm not always how I portray myself to be.
I'm just a confused little girl.

No one trusts a child
But don't children speak the most truth?
Children aren't liars
Aren't fuled by ambition with ruthlessness

If anyone should be trusted
Why not a child?
They're so simpleminded
And forthcoming in time

No one listens to children
As they beg for help and care
Lost in a world of thieving men
Where life is never fair

At night hear their screams
While we turn away
We're killing their dreams
Tomorrow's problems from today

We promise them the world
And give them the scraps of our troubles
So truth be told
We don't hear simply because
We don't give a **** about them

So....you hate me and think I'm a fool,
A lost, simpleminded forgettable tool,
Someone who knows not what life is about,
You stand right in front of me beginning to shout.

The first, few words,  I heard so closely I say,
But after those words all your others went away,
I looked and looked in your eyes full of hate,
I'll take in a movie, is it still too late?

You stamp your feet like a locomotive in motion,
I'm not listening now with your horrible notions,
I feel a laugh swelling deep inside of my mind,
Your nasty and pushy and mostly not kind.

I glad for the earplugs pushed deep in my ears,
Hoping you won't notice them, this is my fear,
And as you get redder and your blood now is hot,
I'm glad that your leaving, your company not.

So....as the door slams and silence fills the air,
I wonder why you really thought I would care,
But how it now shows you that love sometimes sours,
No movie tonight with the now late, late hours.

I was silently within myself, when
bzz bzz bzz

You rang.
Exuberant, I answered.

First it was small talk,
insignificant,
fit for the simpleminded in my Art History class.

Metamorphosis occured,
unexpectedly.

And

Here we were.
You, crying,
and I, deeply sighing,
Passed an hour in that glorious manner
Until you knew the tides had turned
and the spark had gone.

Our bond, though,
Will never weaken, never falter

we are forever united,
Held together with the most permanent ties short of True Love:
those of True Friendship,
that most lovely creation.

Christlike in our treatment of each other,
we share:
consolation
empathy
affection
tenderness
joy

And, occasionally,

Small Talk.

When I die I'll finally have the time
to go visit with my mother,
do the dishes and all those little somethings.
It'd be more money-coming
to my sister and brother.
When I die I'll maybe turn to the Lord,
the only room and board I could afford.

When I die don't bury me.
Just a ghostly linen sheet will do.
Prop me up in the corner discreet.
A Stetson hat, underwear, and my Italian shoes.
When I die let's have us a time–
big bonfire in the woods with wine.

We can go up to my shack
where no one can find us,
lay around in the sack
n' get simpleminded.

I have beheld
the simpleminded
lark, who sings
sustained
until the very moment
he crumples against
the glass--
I have beheld
the fruitlessness
of his path.
I see now that
the sparrow is
propelled, and what
propels her:
a heedlessness
an artlessness
behind her.

I have held
the hand of a man
in tears and
pet his head.
I have walked in-
to churches one way
and expected to come out
another: naivety.

I have come
to understand why
few ever find
the tunnel's exit.
Behold: one smoker,
smoking; one sad
girl with an older
man; one blind
woman, walking;
one foolish bird
in flight
towards a window.

Even if I can't let go
Even if my face won't glow
Even if it means I die slow
Even if you never know
It was you I would die for
It was you I would stand up for
It was you I would always adore

Precious, Vicious, Devious
Your my rose with ****** thorns
My soulmate with devil horns
Happy one moment
****** the next
There's no telling what to expect
Heavy internal bleeding I inflict
Death is the outcome I predict
My genes are rich, off limits
Ancient yet far from primitive
Anglo Conquistador
Aztec El Jimador y Cazador
Arising From The Sun Pyramid
Templar Knights Solomons
Temple Te Doy Un Ejemplo
Simpleminded completely blinded
Let me rewind it to 1492 history
Was it truly a victory?

Just a little piece of content
Love, live, laugh, is my intent
The one to gift you a present
The one I'd always represent
The one that lives in my heart
& fortunately pays no rent

The Martyr The Apprentice
The President The Ruler
The Battalion Commander
The Ambassador The King

It's no Kingdom without a Queen

I want to know what you think about late at night
Are you like me do you take every idea and dissect it till it's out of sight?
Wonder why your brain is constantly at war with itself
Take every little idea , read it and put it back on the shelf
Or is it feeble, simpleminded, a burnt out light?
Why can't I read you, you're bound shut
Why can't I tell if you're worth the trouble or am I just stuck in a rut
I want to tell you how I feel, but if it didn't work out  that would ruin all our little dish room inside jokes about Key and Peele
How am I supposed to bottle things up when I can't find the seal
Why do I spend all my tired nights up writing about you
I don't know who you are, I don't know how to feel

You did not ask for forgiveness
Not because you feared
Nor of your pride—not even of laziness.
We both knew—it was pointless.

We aren’t simpleminded, you and me.
We know forgetting is not easy.
We could drown ourselves in happy pills and cheap thrills,
But even hungover in mornings, we remember.

You asked me if I were angry that you ****** my friend
[I thought of saying, “You colored her one shade of gray,” but whom should I kid?]
You misunderstood my confusion with jealousy.
The girls I envy, I want to bed too.
You chose the wrong friend.

I am not generous with drama.
It occurred to me you only wanted to crack me open.
“You are rock hard,” you told me.
I wanted to reply, “Yeah, harder than you get sometimes.”

You did not cheat nor lie to me.
I was there as you went back to your base self.
You disappointed me too much that I chose to sleep
rather than stop you with your “darker” games.

Was there love there at all?
Maybe . . .
Why else would today be cursed with the rank reek of a great desire gone stale?
Like a ***** gone jobless for a week.
And it is not the stink coming off from me.

I keep my life in a over night bag
I need to be medicated so I won’t feel sad
I want off of the carousal
I got sold a ticket headed straight to hell
Oh these days I just feel like ****
I’m so simpleminded I’m an idiot
I don’t wanna die but don’t get me wrong
They say life is short but Iv been like this for way to long

So set all sails at half mass
Ill someday get there but not so fast
I’m to Blame for all my mistakes
I’m sick of sappy memories leaven me with the shakes
You know I love you but I’m not the one
You can definitely tell I’m my fathers son

I don’t want to be here so don’t act surprised
I had a dream we’re I actually died
The word of death leaves with a awful taste
I just wish for my memory’s to be erased
I want to disappear find something new
But I don’t want to disappoint all of you

So set all sails at half mass
Ill someday get there but not so fast
I’m to Blame for all my mistakes
I’m sick of sappy memories leaven me with the shakes
You know I love you but I’m not the one
You can definitely tell I’m my fathers son

I have tried to speak through metaphor and veiled words and the abstract picture they paint
I try, and try again to paint a coherent picture
but they can't see it
they can't see where I stressed every syllable and deeper meaning of the creases in the paper
the marks on the blank slate
my blank slate
somehow, I feel I can really only speak in metaphor because as soon as I dont
as soon as my paint on the wall becomes scribbles and letters strung together to create a message to create something that I think the world should see, should know,
they shut me down
shut me out
because I have finally found my voice
metaphor is what I use to bend the rules around my words
tricking those who watch into standing far enough away from me they don't see the power and point
Metaphor is what I use to trick the simpleminded and the hateful into seeing what I want them to see and not what I really really mean
Metaphor is what I use to tell the world about the things I cannot say out loud the things I will not say to the ones I used to love who failed me
or maybe I failed them
But what difference does it make who failed who because I will never speak to them and they will never speak to me and this is a happy consensus
But solemn silence turns to bitter words and the screams of the disadvantaged and these will not do
for most, silence was a temporary solution that cannot fix the sense of dread from being looked down on for fighting back
So metaphor is a saving grace
a safety net between you and your intended audience
between you and the world so you have the power to speak freely without fear of repercussions even though the law says repercussion will be avoided
People have taken it upon themselves to bend the law to fit them and not you
to fit their opinions over your facts and their threats over your pleas and cries of help and surrender to them
your words mean nothing
they have to mean nothing because that would mean their authority would be in check and we don't want the white man throwing a fit because he didn't get what he wanted
this prejudice will break us
has broken us
but we're still standing
held up by public image and the necessity for autonomy because we cannot be a broken nation
but let me ask you this
are you willing to stand with a smile stapled to your face and your hands tied behind your back and you feet chained to the ground?
are you willing to stand as a metaphor yourself
as something people will not question because you look like every other perfect person who stood in your place?
are you willing to stand by and watch as they cover and direct prying eyes elsewhere at the slightest hint of a tear in the metaphor
a tear in the demented beauty they have built around you? because we will not be seen as a broken nation
and finally, are you willing to stand alone against the world because you have chosen to support something that cannot, will not support you back?
let me ask you this
would you rather waste your time writing metaphors for someone who might not even understand or accept what you want to tell them?
would you rather spend your life hiding from what you seek to change because what you want to change is influenced by bigots with power and prejudice?
would you rather be discreet than bleeding on the front lines fighting for something you believe in or something you want people to see or something that needs to change?
would you rather be deemed a pointless poet or a powerful influence.
I am a pointless poet using metaphor as a wall to stand behind to avoid the shrapnel.
but I'm tired of being misunderstood.

have you found your next darling spithole yet?
not meaning to come off rude but
i just don't have photo albums in my home anymore
of all those weathered stacks
of glossy tourist postcards and airbrushed polaroids and half-arsed private promises that led to
quick pity ***** and more simpleminded conversations (weather? news? one plus one?)
when you ran out of coffee grounds
and breakfast was cold
and the fingernail scars being shamefully picked on were still quite scarlet
like vampire tongues
fresh off a feast, a binge, a hellfest
of a hot-lipped hunger pang
how many towns did you ravage and terrorise and theatrically swoop over with your velvet raiments
how many people fainted
at the mere sight of your anaemic cadaver-sheet skin and anabolic empty marble glare
how many ****** pitchforks punctured your abdomen and how many furious torches
burned the inside of your pelvis and how many corroded teeth did you lose chewing on
leftover bones the next night
sitting all alone in your grandiose dining hall that smells of decaying rats and halitosis
spitting out the occasional tough marrow or stray spider leg (you never really got used to that odd brackish flavour),
how much of it was
worth it to you?
you were acting on impulse
instinct
some other impressive, egregious “i” word you have yet to figure out;
i can't blame you.
blame is too weak a word for anyone with half your brain to ever understand
i can't blame myself
except sometimes in the middle of the night when my teeth refuse to unclench (pissoffpissoffpissOFF)
i understand
you're the same as everyone else (nothing wrong with that i'm wrong i'm wrong so wRoNg) but
sometimes understanding doesn't mean forgiving
[just nod] yes i understand
okay fine, you crave makeup kisses
caked-up made-up fake love fake blood
painting broken boundaries all over brocade bedsheets screaming
slipping almost begging
WARNING don't cross this line and carefully step over the crude chalk drawings
where many unfortunate deaths have occured
splintered spines and shredded vascular systems and cannibal sick sighs
you barely even toed it and you lost an entire ******* arm
past that finish line
where they unhinged their jaws like singing serpents and gorged mercilessly
until their overbloated stomachs
ballooned up and burst into confetti just in time
for the next baby shower birthday party funeral eulogy
and you might be the next
victim
will you fall for that
a g a i n ?
never ****** mind that—
because we're all about acceptance here.
we're all about holy terrors cavorting with holey beggars
we're all about your tremulous callused hands on the inside of someone's delicate insides
coil up their wrenched guts again musicman
spill your unraveling lullaby all the softly shrieking butterflies have desperately searched for a way out
and you crushed them all
just to feel iridescent powder sparkling in your stained palms at 3 a.m.
reflecting the gentle throb of the glow-in-the-dark stars and the grating television static and the godless blue in your undilated pupils
when she's lying next to you fitfully asleep
dreaming of an infinite field where the weeping azaleas never bloom (she still wonders what it meant)
ribcage left ajar just a peep
cascading umber hair and stick-insect limbs splayed all over your worn pillows
sometimes unconsciously feeling your freezing nape
and you feel nothing
at all
i hope you're happy (satisfied?)
or i hope at least, that she rinses off your fraying toothbrush after she uses it to secretly purge in your newly-cleaned toilet
if that's not too much to ask for
and you also left some day-old lemonade and reheated battery acid by the fridge door
just in case
but you missed out on buying coffee grounds again
even though there's an unhealthy smattering of pinned yellow-note reminders
right next to her faded number
and you'll be moving out next week
oh well. oh well. unwell.
my obscene picture collection is still incomplete even though it's set to display on a national gallery next week [this is your cue to clap]
but you never called back so
i hope you're happy (****—sorry—satisfied)
she's not
and please, don't forget to gargle.

I’m having trouble thinking
My heart won't quiet down
This pounding in my chest -
Such disorienting sounds
Was a simpleminded heartache
Far too much to ask?
I’m searching for an answer
But still I can't look back
Emotions war within me
Each fighting to the top
Concerns for his health
Blurring my own thoughts
Then there’s my self esteem
This pattern I’ve not broken
It seems that I’m not much
Just a body and a trojan
I know that I can’t dwell
On anything they think
My opinion is what matters
But it’s getting harder not to sink
Creating needed boundaries
Is the next important step
It’s harder than I thought
But I'm doing my best