Skip to main content

I want my mommy.

it
breaks
my
heart.
I picked up the phone
already knowing who I'd hear.
Already knowing my dad would answer
And I had no real place.
I waited till the ringing stopped dead.
Heard a muffled and tired hello
from his room in the basement below.
I held the phone up to my ear
and could only endure a few seconds
a broken spirit behind a strained voice
The voice of a defeated soul
unappreciated and alone
in a prison of her own flesh and blood
in close proximity
all pulled tight like guitar strings
along a neck with the name 'moving day'
but this instrument of sorrow
offers no music
only a harsh mash up of voices all screaming
for their own supremacy.
And I see her wire of sanity being pulled
and pulled some more
I can hear the tremors of her voice
about to break.
she's about to break.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Sweet Nothings

You know me too well. you break these daily boundaries these walls i tried not to build you pave the way for happiness in other conciousnesess. I had a dream last night. It was beautiful. And all because of you
3 comments
Read more

mother

i don't know what it is but i cant stand you anymore. maybe because I've been with you for 6 weeks straight. then i got two weeks of freedom, glorious freedom, and it's hard to come back to living in this house, with you, with whom i now associate all the wonderful memories of arguments that you could never bare to lose, the days spent waiting at each corner for you as you lagged behind inconsiderately taking pictures. my friend told me last night, in alcohol fuelled praise, that you were real. that she had incredible respect for you. and i just couldn't agree. you're real only in the sense that you let us know exactly what is on your mind without bothering if it upsets us. but you don't take the time to listen to me, to consider my opinions, because everything anyone else thinks is completely illogical and a waste of time. you can't grasp that you're views aren't one size fits all. they don't work for everyone; especially not me. You can't...
3 comments
Read more

Here's a secret for you;

I have always been fascinated with the human body, but more so the female body. I think of it as beautiful and artistic. Ever since I was young I'd been subjected to the naked female form. Swimming pool showers and older women walking nude. Being taboo, my friends would all be so scarred and afraid to look. But I'd been subjected to it at a young age, and grew accustomed. Being around women who weren't ashamed to be exposed opened my eyes, and gave me an appreciation for this work of art hung in flesh. And so I find that drawings and paitings of naked women are just so beautiful. I can't explain it more than that. There's nothing much more beautiful than a women who isn't afraid or ashamed of her body. [from rue des images ]
2 comments
Read more