Why I Can’t Have Anything Nice

I bought a new couch
But dysfunction reigns supreme
I miss the garbage

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Self discovery

 There once was a girl
who was filled with unchecked passion
“lust”
some kind of fire
driving her mad to chase
smiles, looks, words, nods
touch, sighs, signs, time

She felt nothing unless it burned or tickled
Everything was boring
unless she was in the grasp
or grasping
Wondering though
why is nothing changing?
why so much SAME?

Yet over and over
she followed winding, dirty, twisty roads to dead ends
Enthralled at the speed of the ride
Wasted and refueled
In some dark netherworld
crash after crash
get up
go back

Walk away or get in another machine
farther and farther from a child’s precious heart she once possessed 
but never knew
for the hearty steel case she had built long ago
to protect what she somehow believed to be treasure
to keep it alive
but out of the light of day
away from beauty, trust and tragedy

One day, she could not find her way from the deep dark underworld to any old somewhere
subconscious accidents take their toll you know
the lust and wildness had guarded her tenderness
but were fuel deprived as she found herself wandering on the floor of a great forest

Suddenly

Seeing the trees for the first time
The green was too much but she stayed there in silence

Staring

Where had she been?
Where was there to go?
There was something here
she felt
she felt
something
something more than wanting
something more than the draw of the roads and neverending cravings
she felt the weight
of a steel case
her childs heart
beating

Quiet and alone
and afraid for the first time
she heard the sound of
a lonely, small, drumbeat
from some part of herself
still going
but weak and hidden
like the trees
but the trees were always there and they were stronger than what she thought she saw
so was her heart
she’d carried it all along
without knowing why
or knowing
and it was so heavy now
she couldn’t run
jump a train, hitch a ride out
couldn’t leave the package behind
couldn’t lug it from the next kiss to catastrophe
she couldn’t risk it being seen
half embarrassment
at her own neglect

She sat in that forest
filled with terror
with the heavy container
pounding a rhythm of ages of sorrow and hope
wanting to be freed to join her
to become her
and the sky darkened
her breath full of chill
and she wanted to run
leave it there to die
because releasing the delicate naiveté
she had shielded herself from
was more frightening than the darkest dark hour
than the coldest winter

But she could not go forward and backward the same
with the trees and her heart both undeniable
and she wept for years in the forest
holding the chest
hugging it to her
rocking with indecision
rage
shame
gratitude
pity
lament
and despite the cold and dark
she remained there in distress
until she slept

When the sun rose one morning in glints and gleams
through boughs and leaves
and maybe creatures stirred
or birds wings
or she did
opened her eyes to the morning of a new kind of day
where she might stand up
with her soul-filled coffer
not so weighty as the days and years of old

And make a path to follow
to find a safe place that could be a home
where the trees would always see her
so that she wasnt forever running
and she could remember
that she still had a heart
that she kept safe
and that one day
she could unlock its holding place
and be freer and more full of life and passion
more tickled and alive
than she ever had been
when she was running and chasing
on fire without purpose
a girl just burned out
from all
the burning

You need some rest

bedroom
Alone in the silence of the night
What to do
Watch more Netflix about a man whose life was ruined
Go to bed and sleep tight
Go to your room

Not tonight

Try to stay up late and zombify
The thoughts and feelings
Consider the idea of masturbating
It’s a disaster in disguise
But the thought keeps repeating

Not now

Hear a fire alarm battery alert
Stand up and check it out
Stand there waiting for a repeat of the sound
You’ll fall asleep waiting girl
Because it’s not gonna come for you now
“Come”. How’d you get back to that word?

Not in this moment

You always liked it and wanted to
And the opportunity is here right now
You could just slink low and slide your hand down
It’ll be utterly mediocre if you choose
To follow what only addictive thinking allows

Not in this breath

And what if dreams of lust invade the quiet?
Press themselves close
Not inside you but always almost
Seduce your subconscious when you aren’t awake to fight it
Hard to close your eyes and let go

But no

Sleep will come and your eyes will relent
No matter dreams or disturbances
or the fantasies you can’t seem to banish
But what of frustration, aching and want?
Will they return with the sun to mock and torment?
Sleep: You must be the Knight of Powerlessness