Archive for February 29th, 2012

The Bubbles Are Mine

It’s not chaos.
Pure, boiling shrimp,
right at the lid of my head.
The hippo kicks wildly at my innards.

I need help.
Lock me up and let me cry,
my plea, but I’m stuck,
trying to be perfect
rather than admit failure.

And allowing the boiling shrimp
to eat at the roots of my soul,
and I drift through the chaos,
wearing old pants,
feeling dead,
but not good enough
to be dead.

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Willingness – Part IV

There is sudden deflation.
I am not self-pity.

Empty regret
that I’m not getting
what I want.
Empty when not definable.

Sit and chew on emotions
Slowly, thirty times per bite.

Laugh at the trifles
that seem to derail me.

There are competing interests.
Mine aren’t a big deal.

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Willingness – Part III

Why is Santa waving at me?
Don’t let them fool you;
It never gets better.
It gets different.

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