hEaD oN a StIcK

Sky eye blue tee
You see, because,
I feel less, well…
Alone in it

Bury my head
in the pillow
last kiss goodnight
and hope to sleep
before I cry

*It rarely works*

Pray, prey, for light
A direction
From whatever
Omnipotent Entity
Chooses to answer

The Universe
Provides the proof
That I am not
by myself in
yet another fight,

The same battle
That I don’t want
To fight anymore

I’m tired, I guess

If all else fails …
At least tonight …

I can threaten
people with my
head on a stick …

That might be fun

In the tub

The swirling soap draws designs in the water over my scarred knees
They looks like badly used shillelaghs
Maybe I’m a disease or
maybe I’ve something to displease
Her, He, They, My Maker

And begging
can’t You stop
Begging for any sort of respite
from the constant noise of
The bells inside my head
Is useless and moot anyway
Because it’s gong to happen-

I hate it.
I hate to cry because it’s physically painful and
I downright despise being watched
While I tear myself apart
In a losing battle to hold it together

I know I can’t be the only one
Who has ever cried in the tub
Away from prying ears and
Sceptical eyes

So why do I feel so damned alone?



When I think of you
Sometimes I smile
A little bit dirty because …

But mostly I just sneer
Choke back the temptation
To grab the nearest blunt
And let my mouth run amok

Don’t misunderstand

I do not indulge in hatred
Rather, it’s pity that haunts me
That try as I may to hold on
The kindest thing I could do
Was let you go



This morning I did something I have never done before –
while the children were bickering
and the telephone was ringing
and the television blaring –
I snuck off to the powder room
and quietly closed the door
and then I slid down to the floor
then with my elbows on my knees
and my heart in my hands.
I cried on the floor  facing the throne
I cried like a baby as silently as possible
so as not to be overheard.
Felt that my heart was breaking…
there are so many reasons
that it’s difficult to pinpoint one.
but I think it’s mostly that
I’ve spent my life trying to be
everything and enough,
the one with a voice.
And I’ve discovered that
I have no voice to speak of.

It’s a hard row to hoe



All that you see is a hard shell
The veneer is a result of my time,
Trapped in the Hellmouth’s yaw
It’s like rock, baby, unbreakable
Maybe you think I’m some snarcastic schnook
With an IDGAF attitude and a
sarcastic left hook; you’re not wrong
Hey, I’m strong but smell ain’t everything,
not made of stone or steel or
even spit and goodwill most days.
Duct tape is a staple around here
Truth is, inside is just a tired human
who needs a soft quiet place to break
and ressemble the pieces of my jigsaw heart

I’ll still destroy you if you push me though …