Bar passage 02.21.17

Honesty.
If I was to be honest with myself, with her, with whomever I latch my emotional wagon to, I would be brave enough to face those hurt faces; the sad, slanted lip, tiny open mouthed pains written on pretty visages. I hat them so much, I recall them daily as I am want to cudgel and flail myself metaphorically; the whole Catholic upbringing shit. Damn you judgy white hats, with your fake laurels and holier-than-thou overly curious digits.

I feel in me to tell, not to tell, am I saving myself or her. The ever-present her that always seems to come every.. year, biannual, lonely half-desperate existential period? Think I care enough about Her? No, unfortunately it is always about me. The favourite, the loved peer, the exalted inner Danny awaiting his forever Shine. So many bads and embarrassments melded into they all love me, cuddle me verbally, eyes so cordial and kindly. Sick of my openness and comfort effortlessly. Everyone says so approachable yet I should be lovingly. Ready.

So closed I get lost in the metal gears that shunt and stern the heartsing. Shards speak words that we afraid to speak, leak, spill onto digital paper sheets. Only brave when it comes to blogging. So utterly morose at the thought of femme loss, hurt faces.

Hurt faces speak volumes upon my deafened ears after years of selfish shit. Want to open but aware of the empty organs pumping materially.

Advertisements

1/24/17

Take the solace in solemn silent promises to twitchy McGee walls up

I could sit at the table with the pad so empty

So much white space it thrilled me then fearfully

Set up this desk for inkling inking

Architectural digesting passes through

Sketches and illustrates take a tick off my subpar

No one can see me tic running tick tock forever waiting for perfection

Perfectionist obsessive kid

Basement/office dwelling third place reversing

Adversity trumpeted

Bulked up to level this

Eyes on surpass but lacking push button confidence

Stuck to me, you, Irene too

Head jerking venting to release that dark stain joo joo

Screw the straightheads staring stone-faced

reject redirect Rob rejects

Upset relax meditate relapse

Pressure foments as my fingers bent

Curse the digits and hands clawing

Feel arthritic and Parkinson’s sick

High on the worry and losing the dismissive

Give in to obese obsess suppress subset stress

Feelin’ fine

Thankless

Guiltlove

She shud be able to enjoy it
Flow after retirement
Ease from lacking office
Less stress less tests
Knock down meds
Big heart be damned
Bio complicated interfere her
Enlarged aorta no kill her
Strong like bull and stubborn too

Ppl sick from worry bout sickness
Bouts of ill
Listless
Fuck de bucket list
New fuckit list

Give ease
Alms to mater
Madre malady
She deserves more than we give her

You try and make up for the years of horrid treatment. Sure there was such tears dampening my soggy shoulders, but amid the adolescence there was the selfish anger. Roiling teen cursing mum, curse god world Mississippi goddamn. Lacking heart for familiars and stressed her test she took it with wavering strides cause her heart was so big. Always felt bad, guilt, guiltlove, sick with love and now abstaining.

This shud be her time
Life owes her
Ppl owe her
We owe her
But she takes less n les
Stupid motherly love

Care enough&nbsp
Care more for siblings dummy
Too much self
Not enuff open dialogue
So so angry about self-involved preliminaries
Botch bout new gen focused on themselves and i be same dwells
Sis so sad and crying to me!
Want to fix but can’t ever
Lax and lost to procedural fixit fairy story
Loved the real talk but so pissed at my self story
Busy pissin and drinkin and feeling meself sorry
She so tough but inside struggling
Punch myself but not enuff physical karma harmony
Stop hate stop blame
Love her rightly and be better than previous brother shame

Can you change your rough
Superficial super pristine dangerous
Moderate facial trust
Bright faced white-skinnned
My angeldust
Obsessive with adore and lust
Soothes me confuses me
Just a wreck bust
Heavy metal sinking ships
Imma bottom awaiting thrust
Women be poison I suck it up
Never enuff never done
Closeness comfort and intimate couplets
Cuffed to feminine and sequentially rebuffed
Big eyes get me towards the slave ruckus

Love the pain love the dirt
Back when I was rock bottom and betting rough
I gave the trust to deemed lesser ones to gain the Christy neighbour trust

“Please please come for New Year’s Eve! Promise me.” After so many such years of sarcasm and meanness diluted with loverly kindness, I still get confused about who is genuine, no, whom is genuine. Spose to accept the love but conservative inside the hippie. Mistrustful for a reason, cynical for logical reasons. We know better later in life but do we? An I second guessing the lovely bones that intertwine woth my desolate cold? Boney M, skeleton crew dance festivus. Learn to trust in bs turf .