Im a mess right now

I am unable to connect with you mentally
I can’t bring myself to be physical
Such a prize that no one will win
The game can’t be played
Shut up and shut out
What should I eat
or drink
I said I would…
Save the wine for a time im more sad

But I’m drunk
Cause im a mess right now
My fuckin heart is chipped
and stirred

I said id give up today
The girl who never gives up
Been raped beat and robbed
But I give up today
I give up on feeling sorry for myself
For complaining one more time
If I must all alone take care of mine
I will do this. I can’t stop now
I know the stuggle is me at its very best

Right now

and im a mess…right now
and I’m at my best…right now


Grinded bandana
Chirping Silence

3 circles too small
Flags floating down the hall

Mulchy shadow
Pollution passes

The way of these masses….

3 story yellow
A giver and a taker
Curiosity sought from the true maker

A little
Not a lot
Stepping inside comfort
Warm and cozy

Rattling interruption
Even snakes shed skin
And become renewed
You can change species
Believe me

Stuck her in a glass manhole
Those watching are not watching
Through this division flourished precision
And she cut like a diamond
Through the manhole and they finally watched
Not watching
By profound thought
Though broke
You have just bought
The depth of a sinner
Omnipotent remorse
You are a stranger of your own course
Feeling and smelling deceit
Sweaty and nauseous
Get your fingers off me

Unsteady gait
Walking towards fate
Here he comes
There I run
Ignoring my space
Heat rising steadily on my face
Hot, red, scarlet fever temper
Subsides only by nature
Breeze in thin air
Trumpets aren’t
A part of this dizzy finish
Cathedral window peeper
Put those binoculars away
And come outside
No advances with pride
The advance I mean
Is the composition

P.S. Take your time

“And God Created Woman”

I cannot help but experience like mother earth…in all entities. I am a breathing paradoxical thought that just twisted into a camber.

A walking, talking, contradiction.

Possessing an aura of obscurity… “Appearing” as a vacant page in an open reserve…on the other hand, so very complex with at least 6,432 different flavors.

Some of my flavors are…






Competent… compassionate…nurturing,


…and fatefully dissatisfied…although I struggle to conceal that.

I don’t

So fuckin what.

I suffer habitually from emotional and spiritual blocks, and because of this I need to be unaccompanied to “heart” myself. I have no dilemma gawking at a partition for weeks. This has become a dynamic dissatisfaction for me. This is the method I sustain for my element to stay psychologically strong. This is also how I can be so pliable and lovable.


I am overgenerous in service and commitments, I am concerned with…diet, wellbeing, corrective check-ups, ways of life, math and patterns, reliability, philosophies, unconscious mind, substance, employment, dependents, entourages, precision, and my own temperament liberation.

I can harshly relate to Pandora’s Box.


I have a clandestine thirst to be sexy, captivating, ravishing, attractive, and sparkling,

…to create literature and paintings in which I am the initiator of a new era.

I secretly desire to be respectable, in a high position, and to be documented for excellence…

I enclose sexual secrets which extend larger than life. There is a severe ingredient in me which is like a passionate rendezvous in itself…

I have a secret yearning to be 100% emotional yet I feel stoned as an intellectual.

I secretly know that my “ship is coming in” and I am capable of all that is conceivable.


I just picked a raspberry from my babysitter’s bushes. We walked the length of an overstretched dirt road with buckets, the four of us children. We were on a peacock farm with these animals walking liberally around us. I felt a strong oddity to go over and pluck out one of the feathers. The emerald green and turquoise were candy to my adolescent eyes. As we crammed our buckets with berries our fingers stained with cavernous scarlet juices.

I just couldn’t ignore the peacocks. I was forever told if I let the feather descend out on its own, I could keep it. I trudged my feet over to the peacock and stared at him.

“Peacock, your colors are so stunning that I wish you were the sun that I could gaze at everyday. I can see why they picked a turkey for thanksgiving and not you peacock…no not you Mr. Peacock.  You are too beautiful to sit lifeless on a holiday. So with all my curiosity and admiration, I want you to forgive me as I do this.”

I slowly stirred my modest raspberry discolored fingers closer and yanked out a feather. Grinning like I was saying cheese, I was overcome with elation. Until I looked behind me and saw my babysitter, the mean elderly witch. She took the peacock feather and I felt my hand shed tears as it left. Now I felt irritated even though I broke the rules. So I took my pail of raspberries and put every last one in the pockets of my babysitters white Capri pants. I declared my feather back and walked down her narrow road unconscious to the heated threats being shouted out behind me. Mom could handle that soon after I was sure…