Introspectivity.

It always starts out with,
that involuntary twitch,
eyes popping,
nervous rocking,
hard to catch my breath;

This much accursed gift,
heart haywire, mind adrift,
engine sputter,
pulse aflutter,
can’t run away from it;

A sand that’s too fine to sift,
these hands: too broken to lift,
no motivation,
slow salvation,
beyond a dark, longstanding rift;

Steaming piles of shit,
line my pathway to its pit,
a one way road,
on the map I hold,
of a soul that’s counterfeit.

I Do.

My life fell to little pieces when my mom died, truly…for what felt like so long (but was only a few months in actuality), I had only my oversized German Sheperd to wake up for in the mornings. He kept me going through the motions of life when I lacked the motivation to live.

Taking care of my dying mama made it impossible to avoid the anticipated grief that eventually enveloped me. I knew it was coming, and when it came, I guess I kinda leaned into it, didn’t I? Because there I was with empty pockets, a hollowed heart, and a head full of various regrets.

And, out of the clear blue sky, dropped a bomb that exploded in my heart and soul. I met HIM. This counterpart to my every light and darkness; All punk rockabilly, A humaninty-soaked bartender, A man of any trade, A sense of humor that is fucking hilarious and a story (we all have a story) that’s very real. I fell in love: true love – in real life – face to face – with this insanely sexy and incredible man who walked into my world by total surprise when I had hit the bottom. Things seemed right. And they were.
We made each other.
We were happy just being together.

And then, his town burnt down and he went away. Away from me. The “we” that we’d created disappeared into the night of my life’s dreams …and it was over. Again, I walked around half empty, half dead.

Then, I found him again.

Been.

Been feeling rather

like I’ve been,

tossed out with the trash again,

been hearing laughter

inside my brain,

for getting played like a slot machine,

been taking refuge

in a jackal’s den,

naked, with a so-called gentleman,

been driven into

the wall again,

petal to the metal into the median,

been feeling nothing

but pure obscurity,

a vague and insecure uncertainty,

been here wondering

ponderously,

imprisoned by my own duplicity,

been tapping constantly

on the keys ‘til my fingers bleed,

to dispel the hurt I’ll feel inevitably,

been like, yeah – well, maybe,

I’ve been shafted again,

 sour, that out-dated milk carton,

been eating candy,

vainly, to try and sweeten,

the taste of my faith going quickly rotten.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

PART ONE: THE ACCOUNTING DEPT.

Shame on them all, the blind fuckheads that they are…how soon we forget where we came from.

  1. You’ve got Ms. Office Manager of “Deliverance”:
    too caught up in her own confusion and cluelessness to even realize what a mistake it was to put someone as lacking in workplace knowledge and ethic as herself in charge. She calls shots and plays smart as the accounting department goes to shambles because she doesn’t know shit about what she’s doing from day to day. Not cold hearted, but heartless. Not even kidding anyone about anything, despite her failed self-imaging of a Jedi Master.
  2. Then there’s lil Miss “Princess Complex” Assistant Manager:
    She’s like 12 years old, in every way besides her ungainly height…the very last kind of person on Earth you wanna give any control to because yeah, she likely blows kisses to herself in the mirror whenever she gets the chance. This one is single handedly holding up the accounting department, and this can’t last. The gods have put her quite the lose-lose predicament, though she doesn’t know it yet. Too young for me to really hate forever.

Next, there’s Wednesday Addams, the unknowing lame:
So what? Wow, she inputs data and walks around like a permanent Mad Dog, with the most miserably frowning face imaginable every moment of every day. She covertly snitches on co-workers, pays far too much attention to what everyone else is doing, and was personally offended by Miss Princess Complex’s promotion to Assistant Manager when it happened, talking long shot about the entire situation. I’ve never heard her say anything remotely positive about the company etc. If any workplace on the planet had fewer employees like her, the world would be a better place.

The kicker to this scenario is that the rest of “the team” bust their collective assets to hold everything together: good, bad or otherwise. It tolls heavily. Then, the instant somebody speaks up about the conditions that we’re working under, it’s announced that employees are not allowed to walk around expressing any type of dissatisfaction.
Well Wednesday Addams gets to walk around looking looking like her dog just got run over by a car.
Fuck that place, I’m blessed to have finally gotten out.

Pins and Needles.

My fingertips are pins and needles,
That tuck the hospital corners of your world,
and smooth the blankets of your mind,
It’s chaos, come to adjust the pillows ’round your heart,
Anxiety, come to massage your broken hands,
See my sparkling, salt encrusted crown of worry,
Ever thickening with hardness,
Never weakening with softness,
My fingertips are ten tiny doorways,
That seek you out, thus desperately
It’s a welcome party sporting shotguns,
It’s death, come to holler in the deafened ears,
Life, come to go away again,
See my hate-infused senses trying so hard to love,
Ever faltering with drunkenness,
Ever drinking in this emptiness.

Blown-Out Knees.

It’s been:
the ugliest,
of epiphanies;
it’s been:
hard as Hell,
to swallow,
such realities;
it’s been:
likened to both,
blown-out knees;
it’s been:
anything but,
thoughts of,
a recovery;
I am:
overwhelmed,
by the notions,
I’ve denied,
admittedly;
I am:
undertaken,
by the actions,
others aim,
at me;
I am:
what I am,
just a woman,
no hidden,
secrecy;
I am:
out of the race,
came in last place;
I am done:
now,
out they come,
to bury,
such burden as me.