Listings via Craig

She says she’s looking for companionship,
Quite possibly a friend;
She says she wants to cuddle
And maybe, hold hands.

She says she’s looking for somebody,
That just might be the one.
She says, she’s open for conversation,
But not for sordid fun.

She knows what she’s looking for,
She knows just what to get;
Ain’t looking for a bummer,
Just trains that stay on track.

She has a slew of hobbies,
That tick off all the boxes;
She has a string of commands,
There ain’t no compromise -yet.

She isn’t very lonely,
But she sure could use a hand;
She’s looking for somebody,
Who knows just what to get.

She says she wants to take her time
And make this mission work;
She says she’s looking for relationships
Not just someone to hurt.

She says she’s willing to take the time
Give her own fair chance;
She’ll measure twice and cut once
Don’t count the steps, just dance.

She whispers to weakness
Beguiles the unbeloved;
She tempts the sullen bride
To leave her veil uncovered.

She beckons to the broader world
With open unlost reveal;
Does she mean to be this open
And expose all that she feels?

She spoke the words that rattled cages
Lit hope in darkened mists;
Remembering just in time
That this is just a written list.

Whether she is real or not
I know my limitations
Imagined or realistic
My confidence is mere imitations.

Hampered by my own demise
How could I extend candidacy?
A life going nowhere, a body abhorred
This dream is naught but idiocy.

So close the window, escape her words
And shake loose the thoughts of desire;
Tell Craig to leave us be
Lest she learns that we are liars.

Real or not, rattled in my cage
For once I wondered whether
I could be less detestable;
If only I could lose my tethers…

Choking and Can’t Stop

Oh, the words!!

The words constantly floating in the back of my throat.
Don’t choke
Screams and shouts and anger and goats
Legit, goats, and men that stare at them

 

This has nothing to do with you. You are extra.

Fodder.

 

It feels like I’m drowning.
Bubbles for words
Swim past my lips
As you stare back at me
Through the glass walls
In my prison of silence.

 

Holding back for no fucking reason…

Words,
Bubble and swallow
Swishes and gargles, tickles my nose
Drains to my toes, wakes me at nights
Sneaks in my dreams, perversion it seems,
Why can’t I just
Say it.

Continue reading Holding back for no fucking reason…

Identity #8: F**king February

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Dissociation leads to isolation
Isolation leads to hate
I hate the dull February
Where happy thoughts drown with sadistic glee
Into the depression of the gray

February 6, 2016

Attending a mixer at work, I found myself floundering for introduction.

“Hi, nice to meet you! My name is _____.”

“___? Nice to meet you I am ____.”

Continue reading Identity #8: F**king February

Coffee#15: ICU – I… See U

ICU – intensive care unit                                                        ICU – (slang) I see you

But nobody does. And no one can fix it.

“You aren’t as [fucked up] as you think you are.” Yeah, you can say that now, but you don’t know. You don’t know me yet. To be fair, nobody does.

That, THAT …is how it is. How it’s meant to be.

It’s hilarious. No one sees it, but I do.


Stop

The

Madness.

Enough.

Yank the cord on that record player. You know the one. The one with permanent negativity on loop. The one that tells you

you’re worthless
shit
nothing
fucked up
useless
unwanted

Because that voice is a liar.

Continue reading Coffee#15: ICU – I… See U

Day 7: Beloved

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“I’m falling even more in love with you/… hanging by a moment here with you” ~Lifehouse  Hanging by a Moment


Beloved, I also
Want to Be loved.

As I contemplate
The flow of time, I
Ponder the merit of letting you
Be little spoon.

I will finger comb your hair,
And let you cook today
While I give foot rubs.

Continue reading Day 7: Beloved

Writing #16: The Online Presence

Self censor – to restrict or edit one’s own behavior in order to appear incognito, or to remain innocuous. To suppress one’s natural instinct or inclination for the sake of blending in.

Self censorship is like living in a cage of your own design, where every instinct and inclination is denied and where silence remains the preferred method of communication. My experience.

But I wasn’t just censoring my online presence. I was censoring myself.

Continue reading Writing #16: The Online Presence