Condensation
Your words
hang
suspended in the air
on the droplets of your hot breath
stuck in condensation limbo
never reaching my ears
it matters not
what you uttered
as you grab my cold hand
and warm my heart
Fat Bottom Girl Said What
When my ass talks, people listen.
Archive for the month “March, 2016”
GUEST POST: Ten Ways To Drink All The Time And Not Look Like An Alcholic
Yesterday I came up with some Top Ten Lists that I’d like to see, and my blogging buddy Fat Bottom Girl Said What agreed to a guest post. She picked the best topic, one I hold very near and …
Source: GUEST POST: Ten Ways To Drink All The Time And Not Look Like An Alcholic
Disremembrance
The clock marks time
tick
tick
tick
it’s been long enough now
that I almost can’t recall
why I fell in love with you in the first place
Maybe it was your stellar acting skills
A regular Shakespeare of the long distance relationship
prancing on the stage
waiting for my applause from the front row
and you, merely
throwing me crumbs, always giving me excuses
of why you couldn’t give me actual time
More of the
tick
tick
tick
I chastise myself for holding on too long
ignoring what was staring me in the face
anxiety mounting
tearing at my fresh skin, newly healed
Your claws digging deeper
into the fresh carrion which was my
already abused heart
the wounds you left more devastating
because they were poisoned with the lie of love
Unlovable
I drink too much and cuss like a sailor and sometimes I smoke and I can be a procrastinator and I’m a blurter and I’m too independent and I’m ADD and OCD and I have too much history and not enough patience and I pop my gum and. . . and. . .
and you look at me as if I’ve lost my mind
(they always look at me as if I’ve lost my mind)
I tilt my head to the side and look at you, quizzically, like I’m the dog and you’re the master
not understanding what you see in me
it’s like you can’t see all the bad stuff
Why don’t you see all the bad stuff?
Because I want you to.
I want you to see it all.
First thing.
Right off.
I want to scare you with the bad stuff (because you scare me)
frighten you away from this thing that is me.
Because no one can love this.
You couldn’t possibly.
What’s to love about this?
Kanza – People of The South Wind
Photo Credit: Paulo Borges
The wind howls
dirt eddies creating a haze,filling my eyes with grit
dead leaves circling in tiny tornadoes
plastic bags
a scourge on nature, plastered to fences
making otherworldly ghosts to dance in trees
I seek shelter from the keening, but solace never comes
for it is March in Kansas
and there is no peace to be found
not even in my own mind
Mid-Life Crisis: Take 2
I’m on my second mid-life crisis. Yes, I’ve determined you can have more than one. My life, my rules.
Who knows where this particular tailspin has come from. It could be because my 47th year on this earth is quickly approaching. It could be because I might be losing my job in the near future. It could be because I’m still not sure how to behave since my son lives with his dad now.
Whatever the reason, I’m flailing once again.
The last time this happened I:
- Got my motorcycle license, but never got the bike.
- Made plans to jump off tall towers on zip lines (even though I’m deathly afraid of heights) and jump I did, along with my son (who is also scared of heights).
- Loaded up my son and took him to Colorado for a white water rafting trip that included both of us going over the side and taking a crisp dip in the river, for one of the most exhilarating adventures either one of us had ever had.
But this time the flailing is different.
This time I want a really big change.
This time I want to move.
Not just move, but sell my house and all my shit, and buy an RV and go some place totally different move.
I want out of Kansas. This will always be my home, but I want to experience something different. I have lived within 50 miles of my hometown, all my life, except for 3 years in Germany. Seriously, how fucking boring is that?
Problem is, I’m scared shitless. The fear is near paralyzing. I drag my heels about finishing the minor detail work on my house. I keep pushing back my listing date.
I don’t know where to find the courage to step out of this comfort zone I’ve constructed for myself. I have no idea where it might come from, but I have a sneaking suspicion I will have to discover it just like. . .
when I got on a motorcycle for the first time,
or when I got in that raft on that river,
or when I stepped off that zip line platform.
It will come to me exactly when I need it.
My Name is Alice
I wrote this almost 2 years, but am reposting because I feel much the same now, as I did then. I feel lost, like I’ve fallen down some sort of rabbit hole I can’t climb out of.
PhotoCredit: shanegallagher.deviantart.com
Sinking
Falling
Flailing
Down the rabbit hole I go
I’m late, I’m late
for a very important date
of which I have no plan to keep
because only darkness abides there
Drink me,
Eat me,
make me play croquet and drink tea
which I prefer iced
with a sane hatter
though they’re so few and far between
Will that particular caterpillar
ever become a butterfly?
Will what’s in that hookah
make all my troubles disappear?
Off with my head! Off with my head!
the only solution to stop all those crazy thoughts
from becoming things
You! There!
my King of Hearts,
smile at me like a Cheshire Cat
and wake me from my slumber
there’s no judgment in your world
where you feed me tasty morsels
to make me feel (abby) normal again
lest I drown in my own tears
Fat Bottom Girl Said What 