Broken Road

Wanna run away
Escape needs accomplices
But I’ve got no one

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It’s not what “She” said

It’s the same kind of venom

The belittling
The degrading

Go home little girl, you aren’t smart enough to play with the big boys

Go home
Shut that girly mouth and stick to what you know

Shut up

You don’t understand the big world
You don’t know how things REALLY work
Silly girl

Let the big men handle it
You don’t know what you’re talking about
Don’t worry your dumb pretty head another minute

…..

I’d love to “meat” you in a nightclub
Back when I was a bad bad bad girl
Cozy up
Cover you in flattery and ecstasy in learning of your great accomplishments
Big man
I bet you say that to all the girls
Show you how impressed I am
Pay attention to no one but YOU
Because you’re so thoughful and masculine
“My stars, you must read a lot”
Makes your cock hard because you’re getting confirmation that you’re the one
I believe your charade baby
You look 100% all man-made

“Oh you’re so sexy can we go to your place? I need to lie down on your big king size. These shoes are pretty but they hurt my girlie feet. Maybe you can rub them for me…”

You’re so smart
You’re winning at this conquest
Look how easy!
You’re so fucking cool. These bitches don’t know what they’re getting, do they. They’re getting the motherload of you. That’s a jackpot of oh yeah. The odds were in your favor.

I know.
I’ve known for years.
I’ve been underneath, on top, behind, beside, between…
I didn’t have to let you in.
I made you bring me here.

Take off all your clothes
Lay down
Leave yourself exposed
Look at you so pleased with yourself
Could this have happened to a better guy?
Bet you’re excited now
I’m so vulnerable
I’m female
I was made to please you
wasn’t I?

Feel that baby?
Like when I tie you to the bed?
Simple pleasures, right?
Yes, I have to make it that tight

Oh look at that! It’s so late
I’m dreadful tired
Silly me I forgot I have to be up early tomorrow
Such a ditz, I’d leave my head at home if it wasn’t attached
I have to go
My boss is a bear and I don’t want to be late in the morning
He’s promised me advancement if I keep being a good little assistant

You’ll be fine right here
I’m sure you can get untied all by yourself
You’re a big strong man
Didn’t you learn all
that stuff in boy scouts?

Tootles cutie
Sorry I have to leave right now
We were having so much fun
Weren’t you?
Such a pity

Hate to leave you hanging
Oh wait
No I don’t.
I hope you suddenly become aware that you have no friends
I hope you shit the bed
terrified, alone and dehydrated
And when they find you
Crying tears of desperation
Soiled and compromised
Just another pile of DNA, muscle and bone
on a bed

You’re just like everyone else inside
Vulnerable
Powers we don’t fully understand
leaving us mercifully alive

I just wanted to remind you
You’re as full of shit
As I am
Harsh?
Why yes
My actions are justified
From the moment you saw me as something instead of someone
What other way is there
To prove to you how simple
we ALL truly are?

I’ll just go home
I’ll let myself out
of all of this
You’re lucky I’m a simple
girl
I was considering burning your house down

Resettlement

bub
This is my kabubble
My small hovel in the suburbs
where I drown out the sound of the screaming from within
with some kindness I’ve been learning

I’m still needy for action
but I already fucked the men sent to guard me
oh wait no
they were working for the enemy

I’m not in combat
“harms way” is where I was
this is no man’s land now
Or so I decided about six months ago

And this is seven years
after i said i was sick and so tired
of being lied to
of being a liar

Tonight someone said he was so used to lying
he didn’t know anyone who sucked at it
until he stopped and thought about how easy it is
the comfort of the untruth
and it was sickening to him
that it felt normal

the new normal

What IS that?

It changes every week
from big screen to smaller or bigger
How often we transmit our success and failure
How we dress
How we GMO or don’t

How do we follow something that is moving at the speed of light?

I don’t know if we can catch up.

America is a bubble
Because fantasy and dreaming means reality is somewhere else
We fancy ourselves a great shining land of dream manufacturing
But really it’s all levers and pulleys, maintained by drones and the angry disorganized
and later unknowingly disenfranchised

Red pill, blue pill
doesn’t matter anymore

We are way down in this hole
We are so far down

People with perfectly manicured lives
attempting to re-interpret words that were created before there was even electricity
Confidence so high in words thousands of years older, written by scribes based on stories told by men centuries earlier
Not a woman’s voice in the crowd
But we made you
We nursed you
We clothed you and kept you

I don’t want to talk about world affairs
I’m overexposed to infotainment

Here in my bubble
Feeling like something has to be said for my sanity
but not knowing why I type another word

should I try different punctuation?
stop using capital letters in protest?
I is so much cooler when it’s i

or is it

as my son would say

I feel something in my bones that wants to tell everybody something
Say something with a meaning
It’s quiet and bleak in my kitchen
Cinnamon bread I botched earlier today(too much butter)
Still makes it smell so homey

Too late to go sit in a bar with a rocks glass half-full of whiskey
And pretend I’m a writer type with a passion for random opinions
How precious

Sitting here in my bleak, cinnamony kitchen instead

Bubble

Thinking about a dream of kissing
And the usual torment that comes on waking up in an empty bed
The further ache caused by knowing
I was being kissed in my dreams by a jackass in sheeps clothing again

But it’s the bubble I’m in right now
I made it mine
I’m here until I’m ready to shut it down
part of some journey inside
It will always be part of me

I’d rather it be this part of the desert
Than the flooded toxic swamps of the life I left
Any bubble is better than choking on your own bloated inertia
I can’t go back there

This is my normal for now

Cords and tech everywhere
Receipts, files, tissues and grocery bags on the table
purses on the floor
Cinnamon bread in the pan and in the sink
Vitamins and fiber and probiotics in the cabinet
TV and the tractor beam sofa
Laundry. Always the laundry
Windowless bathroom and shower with the door open please
Once a month bleach the grout
And open the windows for the cross breeze that sends the piano music
to the floor where it sits while my son hammers villains and foes online
Calling “mom…mom” a hundred times or more
The bedroom I call my sanctuary
More like an inner sanctum for the lack of sunlight
Good for vampires
And me
And it’s all mine
Plus the noise of the neighbors and the pipes
And the fire trucks and trains and garbage and snow removal men
For now

This bubble
is where I reshape my life

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Speaking as a woman

selfimg
I’m not perfectly shaved
My “tummy” isn’t “cute” or “flat”
or perfect for that matter either
I don’t straighten my hair
it isn’t straight to begin with
I don’t tweeze or shape or color my brows
A story has begun on my body
Of course I have sexy panties and stockings
But the next one doesn’t get to see them
Until I am SURE

I won’t be wearing my Uggs with leggings
To go out and get him a Starbucks
I don’t eat chia seeds on my salad
I’m a bacon bits kind of girl
And I fucking LOVE bread and dessert

I like wearing boxer shorts to bed
And tank tops
And baggy sweats
And jeans are god’s gift to mankind
Tee shirts yes and silver and did someone say boots?
Doc Marten is a friend
Yes there are heels in the closet
And they get put on when I feel the inclination

My breasts are heavy and real
The center of my body made a baby years ago
And I’ll never be able to recover fully
Without a surgeon’s attention
But my son walks this earth, strong and sure
And my woman body was made to ensure just that
Not to serve as an anonymous object, to please some mindless stranger

Friends tell me I’m petite
But I stomp around my place on the phone
Like a fully-grown clydesdale
And these friends aren’t the fairweather kind
And all our selfies look different. Every time.

I’m open to hello and I’d rather smile than rest my “bitch face”
I laugh big and I shake your hand for real
I find understanding in the grasping and affirming feel
of another adult’s physical greeting
I learned and still believe
Those that can’t or don’t should never be suffered for more than acquaintance sake

I cry at puppy rescues and returning soldiers
and every time Samantha finally gets Jake
Or when four famous NYC friends raise a cosmopolitan toast as the camera pulls away

And when some old guitar or sax riff just digs in and won’t let go
I’ll sing and probably dance
Because my body tells me to
I’m a fan of serenades and impromptu shower solos

My body is sturdy
And being held and handled is required
But my active passivity is matched by my need and desire
I find myself craving men who are like bears
You’ll likely never meet a hungrier woman/girl/lady

Social media gets much of my love hate
But you won’t catch me changing profile photos every week
Or bragging about how strong I am when there’s nothing I truly suffer for
Or posting quote after quote about sweetness and kindness and light
While I won’t walk in the cities or look at real life

Politics and world affairs drive me insane
And I want to talk about them
Because I’ve read and I’ve listened and I’ve travelled enough to know we’re not alone
And as far as I can tell you’ll never catch me on the street confirming society’s belief in the average person’s stupidity
Unable to even give you the Vice President’s name

I know things, but I don’t understand which way to hang curtains
We don’t use placemats here
Napkin holders? Gravy boats? Doilies? Family china?
No thank you
The only “linens” I have are for washing, sleeping and wiping, and they don’t often match
Ask me about my small collection of beach towels and my favorite blanket
Because sand and sea are a necessity and I will get dirty or snow covered
(maybe not the snow so much)

I’m not a fantasy doll figure
With perfect skin
The only thing “delicate” and “slender” about me now are my hands
And maybe my nose
I’m still soft and I like to smell good
I wiggle my toes
I loved to be curled up in arms larger than mine
I want to feel protected
Ached for
WANTED

And I don’t expect my perfect man to be chiseled or ripped
I don’t fantasize about his tight ass
or delts or  wallet
or fancy car
or a giant desk in a big corner office
that he claims because he wins all day
Or his gym card
Or his body spray
Or a closet full of power ties
Or some male domination display in a grocery store line

I fantasize about a human man
With a soul and I don’t care if he has funny toenails
He might have hair on his chest but less on his head
Maybe he likes beer as much as I like bread
And he has a scent that lingers and makes me smile
Makes deep sounds when he’s close and needs to hold me
Who might sing along when the music’s loud in the car
A man with big arms to carry
A huge heart
Maybe his was broken too
And he’s careful and hopeful like me

I’d love for that man to love the human in me
to be who he is and see what I am
and want everything
With the nicks and the scratches
And the history
And I want to love and lust him back meaningfully
And share and work through all confusion we share
as members of the same species but the opposite sex

I’m not a hot young thing anymore
I never was, if I’m honest
In my thoughts I’m quietly seeking a legit partner
I’ve been through the pile you know
I’ve fished the sea
I don’t know if there’s even still one out there meant to get hooked
But I love “ocean” and “love” analogies
We all come from the water when all’s said and done
We all come from the slime and the salty

As I keep getting to know my own self
The one I hope to find will know all this
And we’ll walk together with dirty feet and happy eyes and hands
Because our insides will match
Despite how the world tells us our outsides are supposed to be