Fat Bottom Girl Said What

When my ass talks, people listen.

Archive for the month “July, 2017”

Anxiety Onset

It creeps in silently

on tiptoes of cotton

unbeknownst to me

until it’s screaming

in my head

and filling every cell of my body

with fear

and self-loathing

and I want to take a hammer

and beat it out of me

because tears threaten to over spill

the rims of my eyes

and pour down my cheeks

and I hate them

for thinking they can flow

whenever they want to

and I hate myself even more

because I have no control

over any of it


*What today’s panic attack felt like.



Crime Scenes


I leave lip prints

where only you can see them

as a reminder

of where my mouth has been


I cover myself with fingerprint powder

so I can see the



and arches

your hands left upon my feverish skin



in the crimes of passion we commit

in our minds





Swan Song

This is where

you kick me to the curb

tell me to kick rocks

drive an ice cream truck by blasting 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover out of the loud speaker

tell me you’re sick of my shit

that I’m crazy as a loon

that there’s someone else

say so long sucker




meet you on the flip side

don’t let the door hit ya where the good lord split ya

that it’s not me it’s you

that you can’t commit right now

that you’ve been hurt too bad and you’ll never love again

that you were just pretending

that I never meant anything to you








Time Passages




is the passing of time without you

the clock lies

but the weight of water holds truths

which can’t be measured by a second hand


which settle in bones

and permeate skin

veracity absorbed by pores

unheard by the human ear

find their home in the metronome

of my heart

as do you

when you have lost your way

Reality Suspended

Cigar smoke

is suspended in the air

as is the impression of my red lips

on the side of the bourbon glass

what started as friendly conversation

and side splitting laughter

has led to abandoned articles of clothing

a trail

ending at the big four poster bed

in the cabin in the woods

where we secretly meet

to touch the deepest parts of each other

which no one else has touched in such a long time




no man has ever found

my broken to be beautiful

they’ve only used the cracks

to slip their lies into me

as they offer a hand to stand

so they can then pull the rug out from under me

stay down

they say

you’re not fit to walk amongst us

the beautiful

the blessed

the best

it has been decreed

you shall forever be

the bullied girl on the playground

(no one coming to your rescue)

with no place to escape

because the monkey bars are too high

and I’m afraid of heights





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