March Madness

Tonight. Well, it was busier than what I like.

Birthday Dinner for your Mum… then Bar #1.

Soon we skipped along to the second.

Where I beat you in all games present.

Though, I’m no good at pool or darts….

I think I’ve found a portion of your heart.

I think.

It’s so damn hard, being hard.

It’s really tough, being tough.

It’s takes more strength to be raw.

And I truly cannot balance it all.

Show me your weaknesses, I beg.

Show me your desires –

I NEED

To know what makes

you burn.

Because I am a fire

and I cannot lose my flame

for yours.

 

 

Adam Hates Animals

So I’m sitting on the computer.

Reading my own work.

And this stupid song came on….called “Lost & Found” by Jutt Huffman featuring Adam Rausche.

I tried to cuddle with Adam once.

Jutt Huffman is my ex.

And then Adam Trapani called me. I told him I was writing, he mentioned something about moving a mattress…to which I responded, “For sure, tomorrow.” So now I’m stuck moving a mattress tomorrow and having nothing better to write about than the fact that Adam Trapani hates animals.

Swear it.

 

Intro: Today I Decided to Write Again

and to not use capital letters.

except for at work….in emails…. texts… Facebook statuses….. Instagram posts….Snapchat filters….Pinterest…..Vine (which is being sold by Twitter)….Twitter – wait, I don’t use twitter…. and forgot my train of thought.

But I do use contractions… (I’m sorry Mr. Connolly)

And curse words... Sorry; not sorry.

And horrible fucking grammar.

At least, I keep my word.

So, grab a glass….try to hold an open mind with it…and dive right into pure nonsense and ramblings of me. Me…. a “millennial”.

 

It’s Cold & I Wish It Was Warmer….

So, I had to build a fire.


CRISP AIR AGAINST THE WALLS
OF MY LUNGS, AND THEY FALL
LIKE THE DEW UPON THE LEAVES
fire girlCRUMPLING BENEATH MY FEET.

AS I WALK, MY MIND IS RACING.
& MY BREATH IS ALWAYS PACING.
CAUSE I’M STUCK IN THE MOMENT THAT I FEEL,
BUT I’M LOST IN CROWDS THAT CAN’T BE REAL.

ALL EYES LOOKING FOR THE DAWN,
TRYING TO ESCAPE ALL THE WRONGS
THAT ARE SIMULTANEOUSLY CRAWL-ING
FROM THE GRINS OF SMUG GOBLINS

…THAT WILL SOON TURN TO STONE

AND ITS COLD OUT HERE – ALL ALONE.
BUT AT LEAST I’M BEING STRONG.
THROWING STICKS, STONES, AND KINDLE
ON THIS FIRE THAT IS MY WILL…


CAUSE I KNOW WHEN FLAMES GO OUT:
I WILL BURN.

Come Back

Like a prodigal Son....

people come and go, this i surely know

but i’m tired of empty holes in portraits on the wall

where pretty faces used to be

i hide my cigarettes in mum’s bushes

because she doesn’t like to see the ruins

scattered across her drive

like the ashes in my eyes

where there used to be a fire

and i ask myself “wheres home?”

this isn’t the one i’ve known

too many years i’ve been gone

now returned- the prodigal son

i never knew i was the lost one

cause my pictures always hung

by the entrance in the hall

until the day i came home

slammed the door too hard

and it fell from the wall

now the cracks in the glass

cast a reflection that lasts

screaming, “come back- come back”