Because it’s sweater weather,
and I have no chill…
I don’t shiver in my boots;
I’m hotter when
I’m standing
still.
Because it’s sweater weather,
and I have no chill…
I don’t shiver in my boots;
I’m hotter when
I’m standing
still.
Nothing sexier
than the way a pen writes,
its strokes
slide so smoothly over lines and angles;
Gliding confidently around circles and curves.
Skipping over letters
and slopes
tiptoeing calmly
through numbers and punctuation.
How powerfully it dots i’s,
how brusquely it crosses t’s…
Sinking deep into
and between the lines,
So expressively it conveys
the writer’s vibe
moment to minute.
Fluctuation in frequency
slightly alters
each hump, bump, twirl, curlicue, arc,
dip, loop, point, and tip…
I’m imagining
your hands caressing my body
your tongue having its ways with my curves –
navigating my silhouette;
You holding me,
touching me,
sculpting me –
A glowing magnum opus;
You appreciating me
like I’m the greatest masterpiece
you’ve ever written.
Rest calls me
autopilot disobeys –
Mind heeds, but
locked in battle
with my insomnia;
neither make way
for my flickering consciousness
and exhausted body.
Sleep is an elusive luxury…
Lately.
I was gonna update my blog
with all my new poems
but the kitten decided she wanted to help
and now I guess
I’ll update later
because I can’t bring myself
to wake her.
Firing shots at the world,
taking them in long strides
fiery bullets
that warm my chest
and numb my thoughts
suspending them like snowfall
at midnight.
Just pour me over the stars
and crystallize these precious moments
before time melts [them all] away.
full steam ahead
hotbox me in the shower
watching my sweat drip
and run down the drain…
my ย body releasing
the day’s struggle.
Breathing
never came easier,
set my mind free.
Sometimes I wish
I could erase pain
with the same ease I delete files
from my computer;
Quickly, and without even thinking about it,
Getting it out of my sight,
drag & drop that shit away from me.
Yeet…
But if it were that easy
my memory banks would draw blanks
and my drives would be empty;
My most memorable successes
always come from
overcoming struggle.
I feel it when you’re spelling my name;
Trying to bend me to your will.
Keep me stagnant
glass is easier to shatter when held still.
I feel you drawing my own whims against me,
thinking you’ll scatter me to the winds.
I know you want me to succeed
only in making you happy
and plod along or completely fail
at all else.
You’d rather I know your name much better
than I do myself.
And you’re not the only one – from many directions
do these slighted attempts come.
Control,
in control
but you have none for your own self…
No, it’s from all those around you
whose lives remain in your stealth.
It’s not love, or kindness, you seek in others;
But total destruction of the meek, and their brothers…
And how dare you offend kismet
Gorging your strength of perception
on another’s weaknesses.
Enemies always linger –
No one notices the snake until after
it’s already bitten their finger.
Can’t keep up,
can’t back down –
Speak optimistically
internally I frown
because maybe I’m doing too much,
though it feels I do little;
As such,
I quickly lose focus
and get to feeling quite bogus.
All of this feels…wrong
I feel like I just don’t belong:
Not even wanting to fit in
I just want to celebrate
my small wins…
Instead of beating myself up for
not conquering the entire mountain.
Scaling for score;
Still feeling there should be more.
Either something’s missing
Or I’m missing something.
Trade tears
For fears
I’m posturing
to hide my bad posture…
Tripping over self-doubt
Self-confidence won’t
come into the out.
I can’t figure out why
I kill myself
hoping to die…
In competition with only me,
shadows are always hard to see.
I’ve nothing to prove
to anyone’s roster –
incessant syndrome on the move.
One day, maybe,
I’ll feel less of an
impostor.
October 4, 2020
I undercut
and underestimate so much
about myself
I’ve started to believe
my own lies –
And try to convince other people
to believe them too.
I don’t much like my own voice,
or handwriting
and so in [topics of] discussion,
I tell others that
they aren’t much;
Often, they tend
to disagree
as I should also,
but somehow never really get past
petty self-deprecation.
October 4, 2020
Enjoyable Information. Focused or Not.
Find new stuff
Life, love and destiny.
Aspiring to be the best at writing. Poetry lover, haiku and free verse to be precise, I hope to one day master
viral quotes and pictures
Absent-minded musings