no more

  I give up my womb, not free to sow.

Of decades of plagues. 

And battered woes. 

I give up my womb, not free to sow.

No new pain, no fresh horror.. I give up my womb, not free to sow.

My motherly bone, picked from my soul, I give up my womb.. not free to sow.

The bathtub, the pillow, the pond and the tree.

how many tiny lives did she set free?

the battered woman, inside of me.  

how many times, did she tell me

of the generations past, so stiffled..unhappy..

from behind their crochet

from behind their milk tea

i can feel their eyes

staring at me

now through the window, and into the sea.. there they are wading with the bodies they keep

heavy on their shoulders and worn through their minds, how many times... oh, how many times.  

the vision i see, many women i can not be, baring fruit unwanted

I said, now.. watch it spoil in the sun.  Turn rotten and useless, fetid and wrong..

They forced her to do it.  She wanted to flee. 

But there she lie birthing.

another baby.  

I'm not well, but I'm Wellbutrin.

Vast amounts of mind garbage flew through this page.  Usually fueled by benders of sorts.  Time will go on and I won't even touch this space and now I can't sleep so I am back.

 I'm watching this movie called Powder Blue and just saw a transgender prostitute shoot himself after asking "Whose going to love me (something in Spanish)"

Long story short:  I feel that.

I've lost hope in thinking that anyone will find me worthwhile.  I don't have shit to offer anyone.   I don't even have credit, christ..  sometimes I get out of the house and I get drunk and I think "hey the doors of life are opening suddenly for me and a whole new world of shit is going to come flying in all golden gates, clouds rising and bubbles in the air!"  Then I realize that I am drunk and these people are just hung up on the same old people they've always been hung up on and tomorrow morning i'll be trying to start anew, finding myself.. on a whole new bender.. traveling space in my mind from the brink of my sofa and greasing the creative thought wheels by slicing out tiny portions of dim transmission that arrive to me in the late hours where i'm forever stumbling internally (. ah god..), forever wondering and surfing the great cosmic landscape that is all but one great human psyche ebbing and flowing.  It is a grand thing that some of us are driving cars and some of us are in bed for days and others are making music while some are painting pictures and then every so often someone goes ahead and tries to tie it all together all for the sake of keeping sane.. it all makes sense, it really does.. go make yourself a sandwich.

Emotionally Lost

Sometimes I think coming of age has to due with finding out the truth of ones self and those that surround them.  I never felt right in the past crowds but what about the crowds to come?  What about the circles that await and all the damage that could be done? Are we not forcibly taught to carry on and dismiss the dark feelings that come as a result of tragedy and humiliation, shame and disgust?  We are.  We are taught to plow forward and be reminded of no past ills, even though they swirl and hover around our skulls and in our skin we are taught to dismiss them, even though they never go away.

I found out that the love of my life thus far is planning to travel the United States with another girl.  My body feels hollow and my appetite is gone.  For right now this is buried above ground and i'm hoping, dying for a way out of the pain and abandon that I feel inside.  It is small and there are far worse things to endure.

David

David, saw you slither in.

David, made my den a sin.

David, all up on my skin.

David, set me on fire.

David, watch my torso blow,

Into a bloody stinking hole

and painful spot I wish would go in between two fiery gates...