I have this habit see above.
Even as I'm writing this "crap".
Like the excrement of my heart.
Stinking from fear & self-pity.
It's easy to shatter your love.
All it takes is to despise it.
Because it comes on it's own--
the best things in life is free.
I don't think so, the price is
hidden in the recess of my brain.
But what else have I got?
Category: random feels
Mother-in-law.
My mother-in-law died of ALS.
She's an exacting bitch with heart of a saint
which confuses me & irks me out.
Every time I visit, she asks me to
translate packages written in Chinese
and helps her to cook while the men sit.
You have to give an award
to a model Vietnamese woman
in the form of heart disease & ALS.
It just figures, she's the only mother I had.
No title.
I drink in the sunset
through the open window
as wind brushes
past the interior things.
It's so pretty I could die
to be one with it.
Then I'm reminded
that I'm already one with it.
However unlikely it seems.
Though the perceived distance
gives me headache.
Family.
Family makes you fat.
Family makes you sick.
Family gives you generational trauma.
Family gives you false sense of safety.
Family gives family a bad name.
Is this survival of the fittest?
Survival is over-rated.
I gave birth to a healthy turd.
I didn't mean to but I ate a lotta fiber.
Solved a puzzle that took awhile.
Long sleep, vivid dreams & emotions.
Now the turd is out long & girth-y.
The best kinda natural reward, really.
Silently seduced.
When you're fully alive,
you don't need poems or TV streaming.
You float to the top.
I hope you never come down.
Leave art to the miserable.
What would I do if I love myself.
I would brush my hair gently
instead of hurriedly.
I'd marvel at each strand &
take care not to
break it from the root.
I'd call my parents &
tell them I love them &
there's nothing to forgive.
I'd go out more to dance &
laugh without
feeling lonely, after.
I would care less &
appreciate more.
I would perhaps
return your love &
your touch.
I would do
all the things
you say I
could do.
If I love myself.
In-between.
In the cold light of day,
all I can see is fear.
The cockroaches
scuttled away
back into the darkness.
Now their shadow
fill the landscape.
Any attempt
to escape
is thwarted by
a gentle touch,
a warm smile, "
Hey, stay awhile.
There's suffering for
Everyone."
I'm forever torn
between joining
and going
somewhere else.
I.
I feel like I have new eyes
that can see you in new light.
I keep trying to be purified,
not particularly worthy,
Now I realize that's a lie.
I've been pushing you back
by dividing me from I.
On schedule.
I fret the next thing I have to do
as if it's an enemy,
a guard that would
herald me to my prison.
In reality,
they might be dragging me
outta mine.
I resent them anyway.
hotsurf_ 