Soliloquy from the Psych’o’desk

~a glimpse of you~ 
~even a peripheral millisecond or two~

too much. too many.

to see your face
i know
all the ways i’d want to recognize you
have probably mutated into a dysmorphic snafu

just a crazed & confused squirrel gathering nuts for a job,
a total one-sided arms-race towards total self destruction…
well, as they say
“nutty is as nutty does”

(or something like that)

a soul long gone, sucked dry by a black hole
in the far depths of deep space 9

i don’t have to look to see
that a stranger moved in, insidiously
hindsight is always 20/20
but the past remains an enigma
it’s some cosmic villainy

though not that surprising
stranger things have happened
& impossible things are happening all the time

So.
if it’s at all possible,
in your eternal disgrace,

don’t bring that bloodthirsty dual faced zēlos anywhere close
to me & mine
not so much as a glimpse

stay hidden in the proverbial shadows

 

I’m taking responsible for the energy I allow to take up space in my soul
if you have nothing productive to contribute, you’ve got to go

go on.
shoo fly.

there’s no home for you here

Only Peace.





daily prompt: Simmer

Usurped

where is the cure?

that’ll make you see me as pure
that’ll take all my ugliness
& plunge it into space

maybe it’s because I’m the wrong race
maybe there’s too many imperfections on my face
perhaps my very being is a disgrace
forget about the past, I’m done with that place

but now I can’t seem to hit the right notes
what key am I even in?

it’s anyone’s guess
when did it all turn into such a huge stinking mess?

it became such a charade
a fantastical shit show parade
may as well make a toast with expired strawberry lemonade

where is the cure?

to stop the tears from my eyes
from falling upon what was once a daily beautiful surprise
but turned out to be merely a guise

tears, turning the Earth’s dirt into mud
caked under the crevices of your black Adidas
with a final, sickening thud

HiddenPlace

i went looking & found something
something i’d been looking for

oh, something that’s been on my mind
today, yesterday & so many days before

i found what i was looking for
for no other reason than to seek validation
towards a concept i deplore

i can’t feign the funk, its always been there
no sense in being enthralled by a faux chaotic figment of lust

still i can’t ignore the thoughts of you
that float by my eyes every time a dove cries

they always take me by surprise
sets me afloat to who knows where
a place far off in the future….or before

who knows
i’m not counting the days anymore

flowerbud
flowerbud

wherefore art thou, bloomage?

Self Love Is True Love

2 years ago in the early hours of my 20th birthday, my last relationship went down like the Lusitania. Not the first time I’ve been dumped but it was my first real heartbreak and haven’t been serious with anyone since.

Not that I haven’t tried. I’ve stayed out at bars and parties long after I wanted to leave. Went along with blind dates that friends have set up that never work out. Joined countless dating websites and gave just about everyone who sent me a message a chance, even if I wasn’t particularly interested, because settling seemed better than the alternative.

I’m not looking to settle down with anyone any time soon, necessarily. But I seek substance and authenticity. Someone to call when the fact that I’m a mere dust speck in the cosmic sense becomes to great to bear and I need to know someone other than my parents gives a shit. To laugh at their cheesy jokes and have them wipe away salty tears leaking from my eyes. Someone to share new thoughts, perspectives and lifestyles with me that I didn’t know were possible. We’d even argue well and grow together and evolve into people greater than we’d ever be had we never met.

Fat chance. We live in the age of “Send me nudes” and the dreaded Hit It & Quit It, and my best chances of something right now is to be someone’s “side piece”.

I’ve known that for a while and since the breakup, I more or less gave in to the system of things. I had a good relationship and after having a taste of that honey, I was on the hunt for the whole beehive. The past 18orso months have been a series of reckless hookups, illadvised flings, and misadventures that my conscious has been working hard to convert into repressed memories. And for what? The chance to spend time with someone, orgasm, get dressed & leave all while pretending not to hear my soul crying softly in the background?

So for the past few months I’ve stopped looking and ceased giving into sexual desires of any kind to center myself.

Something happens the first time you masturbate after a particularly long dry spell. Once the wave of pleasure flows throughout your body, you sit back and your mind goes blank from ecstasy and then realize…. YOU made yourself feel that wonderful. No one else involved and no one watching you impatiently as you gather your clothes up off the hardwood floor. There’s a lot of power in doing something good for yourself. It makes you wonder what else you’re capable of doing on your own & ponder why you’ve ever searched outwardly for something you could do yourself.

If there is a hole in your heart, no amount of penises or vaginas you try to cram into it will fill the void. A healthy relationship isn’t finding your other half. It’s 2 whole pieces coming together and meeting in the middle, like a venn diagram.

I may not find anyone tomorrow, next week, this year, or any time soon. But no one else is needed as long as I’ve got me.

And I’m enough.