Month: May 2017

flawed

I’m sorry
that I’m such a passive-aggressive weirdo
who causes drama
and pretends to be
so haughty and aloof
when in fact I am a boiling mess
of seething feelings
that I try so hard
to cover up
and deny because
the last thing I want to admit
is that I still care
way too much
when it was never warranted.

there was never an us.
you’ve said it
time and time again.
I know. but it rankles
like a thorn in my paw
and I can’t bear to admit
that I wasn’t your type.

I’m sorry
that I made you think
that I no longer value you
as a friend and as an artist
when that was never
the case.

I just can’t bear
to be straight with people
when the situation makes me
feel lesser than, unwanted,
not good enough. I have way
too much pride.

you deserved better.
you were a good friend
to me when I needed it.
you tried to let me down easy,
but I insisted
on making it hard.

my whole life
I’ve had to learn
everything the hard way.
I guess
this is no exception.

waxing

I can feel the madness
coming on:

it creeps
like beetles in my
blood it cranks up
my brain higher and
higher it makes me
so high that I don’t
want to sleep
even though
my bones are weary
rest has to sneak up
on me and knock me
out I wake up
too soon
by midnight
I’m off again
the leash on my
thoughts gets longer
I can shoot my mind into
the stratosphere
with ease
even as the cells
of my body get
more electric
I am full of moonlight
but down below
lurks darkness waiting
to hold me in its
slow death embrace.

I’ll dance as long as
these red shoes
hold up.

a whole new world (of pain)

it’s been going on
for weeks now. possibly
even months. I’m deep
in denial, limping everywhere
and pretending
this is normal. I was supposed
to see the doctor several
weeks ago but I slept
through the appointment
and now I’m embarrassed
to call him back.
but it feels like
I’m walking on knives.
the worst is after
I have been sitting
or lying down, and I get up
again. the orthotics
don’t seem to help
at all. today I walked
a lot in flip flops and now
I’m practically incapacitated.
tell the sea witch
I’ll give back my legs.
they’re not worth it.

May Day

last year for May Day
I was a lonely robot,
crying out to empty space.
this year I have found my solace,
and no longer need to
make a distress call.

when I think of May Day,
I think of a maypole, peasant girls
twirling with ribbons. but
apparently it has something
to do with workers of the world
uniting and losing their chains.
I wouldn’t know, as I am
a useless, decorative flower
of the capitalist class. but
I’ll give you solidarity,
if you’ll have it
from one
such as I.