Mean Girl

Mean girl

Cold bitch

Hard heart

Evil witch

Call me what you like,

I know you're gonna call.

Nice

Is just another word for

Most boring of them all.

Extinguished

I've finally done it,

Extinguished all the love.

You are no longer remembered

With longing or fondness

In my heart or in my loins.

Your name upon my lips

Stale and without sentiment.

I don't know if that makes me feel

Better or worse.

Pain

Pain can be a meditation

When given the indulgence of time

And there is no relief.

Abandon

I miss the wild self abandon,

The mindless petty rampage

Of an endless dialogue bequeathed

To unremembered acquaintances.

The luxuriance of an outspoken opinion,

The brevity of a concern.

I miss the feeling of being

The permission to be

Me, but more me

Me, but less me

Me, but not me.

I don't miss the hangover.

Corruption

An elegant corruption of the truth

(to be sure)

Not with subtlety,

But through blunt force trauma

-ungrounded accusation.

A flurry of absurdity

And grandiose proclamations

Turn into undeniable

Encouragement of murder

Idiocy and prejudice.

A bleak and undesirable future

To look backwards to.

The Goblet

Balance a goblet full of sorrow
On your head until the morrow
With dignity and grace
Hold a steady pace
And smile like
 it isn't 
there
Fitted snug upon your hair
Waiting to tip over.

Woven

I look out to the ocean and see

A finely woven tapestry of

The sheerest gauze overlaid with

Beaded organza winking under the sun

Waves of lace fluttering at my toes.

She beckons to me in a (quiet, soothing) roar

To become one with her composition.

I, who have known many fabrics, but am made of

Flesh and blood and bones and breath.

But also I am filled with her.

My skin prickles under the winds behest

And yearns for her to enfold me.

To fill my pockets with precious stones and

Welcome the embrace of her depths

Like a child returning to her mother's womb.

Philosophy?

What have I been up to lately?

How to explain the curiously busy task

Of self reflection, regulation, maintenance

The privilege of a daydream?

Or the purely masterbatory amount of time

Spent in contemplation? 

How to justify that arguing with oneself

Could be a hobby, anxiety a sport?

How to convey the exhaustion 

of such an incorporeal productivity?

It all sounds so vague and conceited.

Is it philosophy or self flagellation?

"Not much, and you?"

Love Her

She was fearless

And she was brave.

She fought battles

She was too young to fight.

All her damage

Made her strong in the end.

And I love her now,

Even though I didn't love her then.