Too much so dispense
Emotions ladled with cheerios
Not fun when rotund escapees flee from the nick.
Allow inner self respect to dictate your tone.
I can write.
It’s a ‘happening’ .
I’m not doing this out of lust or hate.
Per chance,I did go to heaven or indeed another similar place-
14 hours unconscious and not one recollection — not even my mother thumbing rosary beads
A doctor shakes his head
This patient is not good. prepare yourself, Madre
Rely on myself. Thanks fam for keeping me in Santa’s good books.
I’m already a well established drama telethon.
Damn I don’t need extra baggage-unless I can pay for it.
Even then should you allow me to?
Excess mass – Ovid thinks I’m Italian.
I fell off that mountain – Artemis mouthed out the word,
Yeah that is a fact.
12 Caesars rendered him an asylum seeker in religious scriptures.
Buck a wheat
mind your feet.
I’ve stopped caring.
I care enough to share my time, my belongings even..
I’ve stopped crying over boys sti growing into men
who provoke Life to ankle bite at 11th hour on the clock face
Solemn how it stare.
Routine attacks-skin rendered ready for a dose of reupholstery.
I do care.
I am kind.
I’m immune to people and places that hold me as a
syndronised Swedish ball,
slurpie, slush puppy.
Made in Stockholm.
Rhese are justwords,
it’s not about defining what this is or isn’t.
Conversations are a top way to parlez vous
Chapeaux -we have come to untether my very end.
If you don’t feel a vibe speak not in tongues or a form of verbose
I’m not one for stuttering.
I guess I’m fickle too
I thought I fell harder way more than I have.
What does love for a soul mate feel like?
Two hands framed by a scarf around a neck?
Blue Smurfette isn’t down on my list of taboos to do.
A few words…
Keep talking ,
keep laughing ,
Whatever you do — sweet heart — remember to stay true to you.
Yes, love — number one.
I’ve got you .
Posted on 2018-05-31, in Experimental Writing updates and tagged Creativity, Emotions, Goals, inner conflict, New Beginnings, Poetry updates, self expression, self-belief, Stream of consciousness, witty poetry. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.