Sunday, May 26, 2013

Bewitch


Look at me
she said,
just before the rope pulled
right before he was pushed
to the rocks below.
And they looked.
Even when
she never opened her mouth
they heard, knew.
To have that power,
look at me.
I would use it for good,
I swear.
The ability to reach into,
capture
transmit
connect
without words.
LOOK AT ME.

Thursday, May 2, 2013

I stay up too late. I ramble.


There's things that matter
and there's things that should matter.
And the difference between the two,
well,
that's my problem,
that there is a difference at all.

The gap between the two,
I think,
is the result of my shitty disfuctional mind.
Selfishness and delusion, maybe a little
hope mixed with depression,
and just a smidgen of insecurity.

I'm keeping myself awake with this shit.

Over-analyzing imaginary situations
and some such,
this can't be healthy.

My brain is a hoarder.
It holds on to Fucking. Everything.
Okay, maybe not everything,
but the useless bits,
the dead cats and turned yogurt of thought.
It collects rusty nails.

Dangerous scrap thoughts.

But what the fuck would be the equivalent
of cleaning the house?
A lobotomy?
No, what I think I've done here
is go too far with a stupid metaphor.