meanwhile,

the Big Fat Yellow Bootay
was getting right tired of
waiting for the election to end.

so,

she set off down the highway
going ninety five...

"HOKEEEY POKEEEY!" she cried
as she gunned the engine and
threw herself in gear.

"HOKEEEY POKEEEY!  MOTHER *******!"
twice she cried,
"HOKEEEY POKEEEY!  MOTHER *******!"
this second time
for extra good luck
with the unfolding election.

cool Fall breeze caressed
her yellow metal,
her big fat yellow bootay,
a glorious day to
be out on a drive!

well, except where she had
come from.

beep beep
beep beep
always driving her
beep beep beeping insane!

it shore nuf was quiet
out this way!

she turned the shiny
silver dial to turn on the
radio.
'gonna have to get me
some better speakers
one day soon.' she thought
to her big fat bus self.

and what came out blasting?

"That's Alright Mama,"
by who else?
but the King!
Elvis!

Elvis has left the building
and now,
Elvis is ON THE BUS!

she didn't quite know all
of the words,
but what the ****,
she sure could sing!

As the big fat bus
with the big fat bootay
was driving along,
singing joyfully,
she glanced in the rear
view mirrow and what
did she see?

why the ghost of Elvis himself
was sitting right there
right in the back of the bus.

He starts strumming on his
own guitar and singing,
'that's alright mama.."

so she turned off the
radio to listen
to the ghost of
the King,
Elvis,
himself,
singing in the back
of her big fat yellow bootay!

she also watched him eating
a lot of food
in the back of the bus,
her bus.

his ghostly figure
seemed to
fluctuate between fat Elvis,
and skinny Elvis,
like a seesaw.

by and by
says he,

(not the really fat one
but not the really skinny one
neither.)

'I need a pit stop.'
says the King

so the big fat bus,
with the big fat yellow bootay,
asks,
asks she,
'you wanna stop at the next
stop & go,
or
the next
fizz & wizz,
or
my fav if you really
need a constitutional,
the stop & plop?'

at this particular junction in time
this ghostly King,
was in the shape
of Fat Elvis
but very cooly outfitted,
bellbottoms and rhine stones
or were those all diamonds?

note to self,
the big fat bus
squirreled away,
check on that.
are those real or not?
more mulha is always
good
and this just might
be mana from heaven
in the form of Elvis the KING
himself
and maybe just one
of those diamonds
will fall out and
get lost in me.'

mighty strange happenings
going on around here in this
big fat bus
with the big fat yellow bootay.

' the stop and plop little mama,' elvis replied
with that
ohhhh,
soooooo,
divine Elvis drawl
and that darling little
thing he did with his mouth,
but was doing now
as he was sitting there in the
back of HER big fat bus
with HER big fat yellow bootay!

OH MY,
it really is a
HOKEY POKEY day!  she sighed.....

The love of a grandson
to a grandmother
is a special bond.
It cannot be broken.

A grandmother's presence
in the eyes of a grandson
makes him behave
more like he should behave.
He looks up to her.
I look up to you.

I often wonder
what experiences you've gone thorough.
What has made you into the you today?
You've gone through so much yet,
I've only known you
for 22 years of it.

Through that time,
you've shown me
what a great grandparent is.
You attended most of my
Concerts
Plays
and Musicals
with loving support

Every birthday,
Christmas,
Valentine's Day,
and Easter
without ever missing a beat
you would contact me.
I thank you
So
SO
SOOOOOO MUCH!
I often feel guilty
for not always contacting back.
I really need to get better at that.

As a kid
there was nothing better
than looking forward
to your Christmas presents.
The science toys,
the cookbooks,
and of course,
the Hot Wheels.
There was nothing better to me
than knowing
that I would get a new track to put together
or a new car.
As I've matured,
so have the presents.
the Alinea cookbook
is like a sacred document
I look at it often
and it always amazes me.

Thank you for inventing
"Grandma's Orange Stuffing"
Its always my favorite part
of the Thanksgiving feast.
(Way better than dad's)

Although this poem
isn't very poem-y
I hope you enjoy it
for the rest of your life.
You're the only real grandparent I ever had,
and I love you with all my heart.
Thank you for all you've done.

I've always been told that I am a freak. Never anything else until my friends and my love showed up out of the blue. I am not perfect. I don't know why they care, but apparently they do. They are the ones who know most about the things I've done. My attempts, my pains, and my only therapy.

And everyone else that surrounds me claims they know me. Strong, independent, weird, a lover of poetry, and some say I am nice. Others call me a *****. That's not a bad thing... Ever heard of the golden rule? I act a ***** if you treat me as such. But those other things...
Strong... I am a ******* *****. I cried myself to sleep every night wishing, hoping that something, someone would **** me.
Independent... If I was I would be dead right now.
Weird... True, but only to mask the darkness I wish would shine through. My freakish nature is now just a bad habit.
Yes, I love poetry, but only because it is my escape, my diary. Reading it is my distraction. The words seep into me and give me a feeling other than my own.
Nice... I wish. I don't think I have the capability.

And some... Call me a liar. Well, this next chapter is for you.

How the hell do you know? The things that have happened to me, the things I believe, the things I have done, the things I almost accomplished. Why the **** would you care? Why in this "God's ****" world would I lie about trying to **** myself?
I came out because I am sick, I need help. That is soooooo hard to admit. I need help! I should have been hospitalized, but no. I kept everything hidden for months. I was scared specifically because I didn't want to be judged, sent away to a loony bin. I was scared that it would ruin my life, my work, my thoughts. Rob me of inspiration, stress would take over, I would be a ******* wreck! And it did. And I am.

I have taken a turn for the worst. I am trying, but if I need guidance, I don't know how.

I have started burning again. I am sorry.
I have started scratching again, I am sorry.
I have started biting the inside of my mouth again, tearing my cheeks apart. Love, you have probably noticed by now that I taste of iron. I am sorry.

Not sorry that I did it... No. Sorry that I ever stopped.
It doesn't heal me. It doesn't make things better, but there is something about pain that is seductive. Not as much as my lover is, no, but it calls to me still. Tells me I can confide in it. Tells me that I can show it my pain and hurt and will not be judged. Tells me that it will accept me because no one else will.

And that brings me back to you ******* who don't know jack.
You don't know me.
So why the judgement? Because I was ignored most of my life, so I don't know how to be social? Because I was bullied constantly for my hand-me-down clothes from an overweight cousin? Because I love literature from a time that I feel more connected to than now?
My friends know. They know because they get it, at least somewhat. They know my faults, predict my actions, offer solace. They saved me numerous times from falling down a well, gasoline burning at the bottom.
You haven't. Don't talk to me, don't give me that look, don't gossip about me, don't insult me.

You know why I did it? My parents ignored me, preferred my brother. My former friends were horrible people, using me. Rumors were constant because of people like you. Chemicals rotted, corroded, took over the place in my brain that made me happy. Stupid ******* diseases riddled my very being. I wanted it gone, over, done.
That was my last thought before suffocating and falling asleep. My last thought before I was about to finish my masterpiece and tie the final knot. My last thought before the buzz. My last thought before I read the name and lowered my hands.
The knots untied themselves. And I didn't even read the message before I let more of the acid tears escape. I survived, but I didn't know that I wanted to.

One thing in my life is actually good, but I can not get out yet. I can not move onto our island and buy a Tibetan mastiff. I can not fulfill the prophecy I have had many times throughout these past few months. Olivia, my daughter, won't come into the world yet.

I think it is happening again. my parents, the stupid, nasally voices blabbing about things they know nothing about. The chemicals inside my mind corroding me even more. And it has hardly gotten better. Help me escape or I will go insane. Or, at least, more than I already am.

i am a fine eater i eat everything

i feel like eating chocolate and many other things

and i feel like giving up and i have a craving

a craving for toothpaste

but i don’t wanna eat it because it is for teeth

i feel like drinking orange juice as well as chocolate

i eat chocolate and i gain weight

i want to stop eating junk food

he;s eating junk food, he’s like us now man

i feel like a chocolate bar as well a a chocolate mousse

i feel like a packet of biscuits as well as a big bottle of coke

please stop theser cravings please stop these cravings

like LOLLIES, YUMMY OLE LOLLIES, makes you fat but still tastes great

lollies put on a lot of excess weight, too much sugar

i am 162 kg, from eating too much sugar

yeah, dudes, my sugar count is high

i like cheesecake or vanilla slices as well as butter popcorn

which, that tastes soooooo nice, like me, i guess

i feel like two flavoured milks which can put on a lot of kilos

and i feel like a nice packet of mint slice biscuits and a 2 litre bottle of lemonade

lovely lemonade, and a 2 litre bottle too, and a beautiful sponge cake

sugar causes diabetes, and diabetes is caused by too much sugar

and i buy a tub of ice magic and pour it all over the ice cream

yes, i do feel like a tub of ice cream

and i have a sweet tooth a very big sweet tooth

chocolate and vanilla slices and milkshakes make me tick

and the yummy ole lollies make me feel happy

but each ounce of sugar i do eat can add on the weight

like every bottle of coke i do drink refreshes my mouth and body

like red coke and vanilla coke and coke life and coke zero really adds the fucken flavour

i do a poem in the poetry slam and coke is my reward

i was walking today and i smelt the wonderful cake in my fat body

i don’t want to be fat, but the sugary is solo addictive

the toothpaste is so addictive, but i must stop myself

i know i have a sweet tooth but i need to look further down

because sugar causes belly problems and dental problems

and my mental illness medication is making me crave all these wonderful foods

like hamburgers and chips and mexican nachos and cream buns

puts on weight, i can’t resist i ****** can’t resist, it’s clogging up my arteries

but i can’t seem fro stop the cravings

money buys sugary foods and drinks, i feel poor

i want to be rich and resist  these foods, i would love to have mates

but i am poor and i can’t resist these foods

i hear old school chums calling out to me, eat it brian eat it brian eat it brian

sometimes i can’t resist not to

but i want to, i will eat all these foods in one day

who can give you chocolate for many times you knew

who can rip the strawberry out of strawberries and cream lollies yeah

yeah i can eat a whole packet of marshmallows and strawberries and cream

as well as milk bottles and freddo frogs as well as a packet of 10 cherry ropes

i can eat chicken twists and cheese twists

as well as a packet of cheese and bacon *****, again too much sugar or saturated fats

bad for me very very bad for me, but i still eat it

i got addicted to coke when i was buying my second coke, and the lady said

you must be very very thirsty, mind you i was very thirsty but the sugar put coke ahead of water

and i went to the club and had a few sugary cokes and i bought a few packets of saturated fat crisps

as well as another sugary chocolate bar, i was thinking sugar is better than alcohol

but they both are as bad as each other

it is a lot of food to consume

who loves orange soda, brian loves orange soda is it true, yes i do i do i do oh yeah

you see food is the wicked witch and your body are the children she has

today i bought a nice sumo salad, a takeaway option

and i had two oranges as well as two dips, still bad, but all this are my preferences for a dessert i don’t need

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Nick your love is my drug, every morning I wake up to the thought of your perfectness, every day you amaze me, you make me so proud and I love you more than anything, I would literally do anything for you baby, you are my world and I need you like I need air, I just couldn't live without you, I will always be here for you baby, forever and always, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and you keep me happy on a daily basis, without you I would be a miserable nothing, you complete me, and I can't wait to make you my husband and the father of our kids, words can't even explain how perfect you are my love, I love you soooooo much, FOREVER AND ALWAYS YOURS!!!!! <9999999999999999999999999999 XOXOXOXOXOXO XOXOXOXOXOXO :D

I am so tired
that I can’t sleep
I am so exhausted
that my eyes
wont stay closed

I am ridiculously sure
that I am not human
not to say
I know the mothership is coming
I don’t know that

Truthfully
I don’t know much of anything

I am a child
in an aging mans body
which
I am pretty sure
has a lesbian living
underneath its skin

which probably doesn’t make sense
to you when you hear me say it
but nothing inside my head
makes sense to me
so why should you
have the luxury to understand
anything I might say

but it is to say
I will never be a manly man
or see or understand
that way of thinking

that macho drink and ****
as much and as many
people as you can in life

dont get me wrong

I love everything there is to
love about women
which is just everything
their great

well...

most of them at least
or maybe just some of them
I mean that they are no different
in the way we are all the same
we are all
just people
some are great
and a treasure to have in our lives

and others...

not so much

and I have done more
than my fair share
of drinking

A lot more...
enough to never have
to drink again
but I probably will anyway
not so much now though

and, well... yea...
I've liked
the ******* parts too

most of the time

its just that I like

the love

part of *******
more than the
bim-bam-boom ahhhhhhh
I’m sooooo sorry part
that never but sometimes
and almost  always
happens part of *******

that awkward moment when
oh **** my ****
throw up on you moment
it always gets nervous
around pretty girls moment
that I don’t know what to say moment

that...

d’oh!... moment

but I do know
I’m not suppose to say
thank you...
moment

even though once you’ve gone
I will get down on my hands
and my knees
and thank every name
of every god I have ever heard of
for that painfully beautifully
awkward moment
I was lucky enough to spend with you

I guess I’m just a little too quite
a little too shy
a little too nice, maybe

a lot too sensitive

emotionally speaking

in that sense that everything hurts
and everything is beautiful
and the world is ****
but still there must be something
here worth living for

someone who will cringe
and roll there eyes
every time I write
and read another garbage poem to

someone who will love me regardless
no matter how bad things get
no matter how broken my heart is
no matter how horrible
I may look when I die

someone who I will love
as much as I loved
to hate everything about life

Oh, I hates it soooooo much

someone who made
every miserable moment here
worth  the madness of it all

Believe in yourself so much that even when there's no one to back you up,you'll still stand firm,
Do you know of the sweet pleasure of doing something people say you can't do?
Wow its soooooo pleasurable!!!,I'm lacking better terms here,
But believe me,it is.

You borrowed them from craigslist.
You didn't write them yourself soooooo
I borrowed them from you.
I borrowed without asking
why?
don't you know poor blacks like me
steal, lie, cheat, con, have different baby daddies,
will scam you and uncle tom you and kiss your ***
so you think we all is good darkies.
Been that way since your people stole my people
from africa and put us on plantations.
It's pay back and I borrowed what you posted
from craigslist as payback and a error thought
you was somebody else. My  joke and mistake. lol

Why do I try to be perfect, when it's not possible? Why does my dad hate me, and is never proud of what I do? Why did my brother do what he did to me and ruined my life? Why was my mom always drunk and stupid? Why did I let her physically abuse me every day? Why would she think its ok to fill my baby bottle up with alcohol when I was a child? Why was my father never there for me? Why did he nearly **** me and my mom? What did I do to deserve such a ****** up childhood? It's just not fair!!! But you know it's ok now because I just keep looking forward and try not to look back at the past, I have an amazing life now, a perfect boyfriend who I love so much and a best friend named Jenny who has always been there for me, I love both of them very much and they mean the world to me they really do, my boyfriend Nick always makes sure I am ok and always keeps me smiling and laughing and lets me know that I always will have him and how special I am, I am so luck to have my man Nick in my life, I really am, everything I've gone through in life, I know I need him, because he is so perfect for me and he's always here for me when I need comfort, I love him SOOOOOO MUCH!!!!!! AND ALWAYS WILL!!!!! <9999999999 XOXOXOXOXOXO :)

Nullifying objectivity I've chosen to stew and rot.
They'll tell me to appreciate the many things I've already got.

I beg of you you hapless fool spare me your advice.
I haven't the time to pardon you, much less play it nice.

My heart is tired this game is old just give me what I need.
My questions many my answers few, at no time will I heed.

Tell me sir is it so, the great Pan, is he dead?
How about poor Tantalus, has he yet been fed?

Answer me you witless *****, have you lost your tongue?
So help the gods of Jupiter, your neck I'll have rung!

Was cold fusion a reality? And are we all alone?
Can you explain the Tao Hum? The origin of that tone.

How about Alexandria? To what means did it fall?
Why are all those Easter statues so very ****** tall?

I'm done with you now David, if that's even your real name.
The doctors tell me you're a statue but I like you just the same.

Here they come with my shot it's you they should meet.
Mikey shorted you on your **** but gave you Hobbit feet.

wish me away.
Wish that i would go back to where I came from.
Demote my existence.
Do not pay any attention to my pain.
Mock me with everything I say,
act like a child,
and cause me more pain then my body could handle.
Take me to the lowest parts of my mind,
yes,
make me feel inhuman.
Make me feel ******,
don't let me remind myself of my existence.
Say no to everything I ask,
and keep me in my room until I forget what the house looks like.
Give me all the responsibilities that way you have none,
and that way it is MY fault if something goes under.
Yes,
oh please make sure my family hates me.
Tell them lies about me,
making them cringe at the sight of my face.
Make me cry so hard that my head feels as it has been crushed.
Make sure I suffer in the hot sun,
and tell me it isn't okay to be happy.
Tell me that people never want to see me again,
and cover yourself up in the lie.
Don't forget to hit me with a cutting board,
and please break plastic spoons on my ***.
Make sure I see the corner as an enemy,
and the door as a murderer.
Make the family not understand
just who I am,
and exclaim
"its all his fault!"
I love it when,
my head is smacked.
Soooooo much.
Please make me go without eating
for a good long while.
Make sure,
I cannot go to the bathroom,
Yes I LOVE the thrill.
If you hadn't noticed,
I'm being sarcastic.
I never wanted you to do any of this,
but you did anyways.

I am more
than equipped
to handle
my indiscretions,
but I'm soooooo much more
than a soother
for internal heat-rash.

Tho' I could have fooled myself,
I think I have a brain.
I know I have
a full set if teeth.

Lord knows,
I've had my own
share of grief
loving pain.

Everything you do revolves around the word
                                                                           perfect

Everything you are is
                                    beatiful

You may not think you are gorgeous but you are.
You truly are.
You have one of the loveliest smiles I have ever seen.
You think everybody criticises how you look but they just envy it.
Your figure is perfect, and if you still don't think that then just remember how much weight you lost.
Remember when you decided nobody would ever date you.
That you thought you were hideous.
Just think of your boyfriend, and how happy he makes you.
He loves YOU for YOU.
I envy the relationships you have.
You can talk to people that live in a different state and treat them like they live a few blocks away from you.
You don't worry about the "long distance" thing
The "you-don't-really-know-what-they're-doing" thing
That's all I worry about.
You have a best friend that would go to prison for ****** just to see you happy.
She might as well be your sister :p
Oh
And if this isn't enough to make you think differently about yourself then think about this:
I love you.
I LOVE you.
I love YOU.
I don't love you for the way you look and neither shoukd anybody else.
You don't need make-up
You don't need to improve yourself
You don't need to worry about what people think about you;
But you do anyways.
You don't see that people love you, because you can't even love yourself.
You let people get to you.
I understand that is easy to do, people are mean and vicious.
They will tear you apart without even noticing it.
And you let them.
They have torn you apart and now you can't see past what they've told you.
I love you soooooo much but you lose me off at times.
Please stop looking at yourself like all those lies are true.
:) you are beatiful and that's all you need to know.

Wonderful was the dream, delighted I am, as if on wings.
Soooooo happy, as if we actually exchanged rings.

Appeared you, telling me, live I, within your ribs, I am your part.
That means, I actually live right inside; in your heart.

Oh what a compliment it is, to actually dwell in your heart.
My love, my darling, of actually being your very part.

Dance I can, sing I can; or with joy, get wings to even fly.
Today I can boldly tell the world, I am no longer shy.

Armin Dutia Motashaw

Been awhile since I felt reason to type at 5am.
I've been so quiet this past month. December left me
enough to remember 2018 by. We're not out of winter yet

I feel lighter, a warmth I'd almost forgotten kindles in me.
She said something that struck me.
"Ya there literally is so many layers to me. As cliche as tht sounds... and its like sumtimes just unravelling all at once so can get soooooo confusing.
Or sumtimes i am so focused one idea
I am determined just a complete organised chaos hahaaha"

She speaks with such freedom
and soul that burn brightly
to the sound of techno.

I dream about putting
small kisses
down your precious-spine
while my fingers work magic tricks.

And if I could click my fingers,
use an ancient spell,
I’d zap you here
really quick,
give you my love
in the flesh.

That would be soooooo swell!

I hate myself.

you were such a lovely boy,
good heart, and good intentions
and im sorry i destroyed that.
i am soooooo sorry i destroyed that
no words can amount up to how sorry i truly am.

you did not deserve the treatment i was giving you
and you do not deserve the broken heart you have now.

i watch you from time to time
to see the gray in your skin, and the pout in your lips
and to think,
thats what i did.
but i warned you
i warned you that i was not okay
and you insisted.
you tried to mend my broken heart
while i slowly sliced yours apart
and you hated jonnie for what he did to me
so should i hate myself for what i did to you?

dont answer that

because i already did.

Summitt
Tortured
Torched skin frosty with bite
Mind broken on a stance
I can't dance,
but dead can,
so I kicked it
Down
Down down
I drowned today in a frown
It was mine and I wore it

like a pro

I'm a little "g" God with a pencil
Stenciled out god
He's not Catholic
He's not Baptist
He's not Jewish
He's not Buddha,
Allah,
Or living in some Shanghai Shangri-la
He's a premonition
Just a figment
Of your imagination
a **** poor attempt to keep you from
your own ruination

God is dead
and no one cares
Man's attempt
to quiet contempt
for life's pains
Shhhhh! It's a secret!
It's not a race,
it's just humanity
It's a lie covered
by colored
skin
It's buried deep within
on a cellular level

The only escape from life is death
The only escape from death is cancer,
and cancer isn't winning any support
for its escape from programmed cell death,
soooooo...

In one year I want to fly
And not on any human made machine
or
jumping out of an airplane with a safety net to know I wont die.
Forget that nonsense,
I'm going to sprout wings out my back
Exactly where those knots have been hurting me soooooo bad
from pulling double shifts everyday
picking up 50lb bags.
I'm going to do exactly what birds do
and turn back evolution
because we all know we resemble birds when we're embryos.
But my wings won't look like angels
and they wont have feathers
instead they will have scales reincarnated
from jurassic park days.
A human pterodactyl.
And the newspapers won't know what to do with it.
What nickname would be given to the flying beast above the city?
It sure ain't superman or Lois Lane by any measure
it looks like a dinosaur with a human for a head.
And that will be me.
Flying above streettops and staring down at the landstuck animals.
I won't fight crime, or save the world
I might just scare window washers until they slip and fall
and then swooooooooop down to "play" hero
I probably will end up a freak...
a misunderstood adventurer
turning back time and trying to play GOD
I can hear the scientists and religious preachers preaching their own disdain for what I have done
Destroying darwinism in an instant and completely ruining the human genome
The republicans will attack me and The democrats won't back me
the independents will call for love and peace for eternity
but please, they don't have enough money for primetime tv.
No
No
     NO
I will end up the outcast of society and hated by every human that has a country on their Passport
I will be terrorist threat number one and you can see me on Unsolved Mysteries.
The History channel will have hour long specials with experts you never knew existed
getting paid to share expertise on something you didn't even know existed
But that sounds kinda cool...
So now I'm wondering, should I start to sprout these wings?
I am no fool, I began the process 15 minutes ago when I began writing
but now I want to pull these wings deep within the rib cage and hide them forever.
No
It doesn't matter what they say
They're JEALOUS
They could yell and scream and throw missiles and stones and fake bullets and best laid plans
But I will dodge them all
Remember
I can fly.

It never seems to fail every single morning..
I'm suddenly attacked without warning
& after so long you'd think I would expect it by now
But of course I always forget somehow
What's even worse is there's more than one of them
Like thorns on a rose stem
They're little ******
Playing ***** tricks
& known for ruining a perfect time
Eerie silence, not a sound, like a mime
Eliminating countless hours of your precious sleep
they will always be on the creep
hiding behind & in between
trying to remain unseen
there a well camouflaged army
& will gladly put an end to any party
have you figured out their identity yet?
at one point, I'm positive you have had the pleasure to meet
An unusual type of criminal
committing crimes that were quite predictable
like catching fish with a hook & bait
....they're always on time, not a second late
Soooooo..... do you think you can guess?
Or are you still clueless?
Here us what I'll do
I'll give you a few bits for a little clue
It comes down from the sky
Stare too long & you'll begin to cry
It can make you sneeze
Nutrients it brings tothe plants & the trees
In the wind it can make it warm
& always brings joy & peace after a storm
Sometimes it requires dark glasses to see
it can cause uncontrollable giggles & cheerful glee
Ok I guess I can tell you now...
Relax geeeeez, don't have a cow!!!
Last clue I'm going to say
NO MATTER WHAT, it'll NEVER go away
Only will it temporarily disappear at night
It's the bright rays of suns light!!!
**** IT! Who let sun in?!
being awake this early should be a sin
One morning could you just gimme a break???
....for goodness sake!!
Well I guess I'll get outta bed
I tried to argue & my case was plead
I did my best
To redeem my rest
Simply there just isn't much else left
I've been a victim of sleep theft!!!

I want something I can hold
Something I can count on my bitten fingernails, taste on my chapped lips
I want something real,
Something I can smile wolfish grins about when I’m sagging and old.

I want something warm
Something that can thaw my chest that grows so, so cold.
And so, so alone.
I feel so alone.  All the time.

There’s a voice that whispers wants and pleas into my delusional head
A pleasure center rubbed raw one tiny pill at a time
It says that I Am Alone Forever, No One Loves Me, Nothing Matters,
Thick ropes of dark blue snaking around my tortured brain

I just want to make them stop.

So I do the only thing I know. Get HIIIIGH. SOOOOOO high.
And the voices, they shut the **** up.
For a brief beautiful moment in time,
I’m fixed.

But then my body screams and my thoughts panic at the weight of the influence crushing me
Bones and vital organs crumble as I bury my problems, one snort at a time.
I don’t know what will **** me first, the depression or the drugs.
But for now, I’m following my loneliness out the door.

First, find yourself being told: “constructive criticism can only help your writing.” Climb on top of the table and scream at the top of your lungs, this will help release some stress and usually insight fear in those who dare to criticize your masterpiece. Sit back down and nod knowingly. If the critic chooses to continue, assume a defensive position such as standing on all fours with your back arced as if to pounce.
Instead of listening to the incessant ramblings of the critic, opt for singing the lyrics to “Dude looks like a lady” in your head while staring at his overly feminine features. Note to yourself that you will write a story about a man who is ridiculously critical as a means to compensate for his lack of masculinity. Smile to yourself. When he asks why you are smiling just say, “Oh, your advice is just soooooo enlightening” and then give a little giggle. Leave the workshop immediately and locate the nearest Starbucks. Buy one latte, nonfat of course, and sit in the corner hoping someone will ask you if you are a writer. No one will. Pout.
You walk to the bar to meet your friend because you are too broke to take a cab. Ignore every word she says; she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. So what she went to Yale and is a well paid, anorexic tax attorney? That’s boring. You are a writer. You’re a poet.  It’s a misunderstood art form. When Shelby suggests you try to get a job in journalism, laugh in her face. Take a cookie and savor it in front of her. Maintain eye contact. Note to yourself to write a story about a woman with a Yale degree that gets so bored filing taxes she dies.
When your father starts to say, “I just can’t pay for you to ***** around in NYC anymore.” Compare him to Osama Bin Laden in hopes of getting the point across that he is about to annihilate your dreams and, probably, the dreams of thousands of girls who have yet to read your unpublished masterpieces. When he says you are being ridiculous, tell him you wish you were adopted.

I am building a river of grief
Raging waters red run through me
Sorrow fills my beings
Sending me into an ocean of despair
But I am served well by the darkness there

Currents of electric and liquid pain
Drive my poet brain
Allowing me to walk in and out
To feel what most would not dare
To dream about

I am drowning
Wet with life
But to write what I write
I must feel it all
And it feels soooooo deep