Sunday, August 7, 2011

Sometimes I write Poetry

This mess
is forsaken
Alabama is a state I've never seen
stab wound one I've never known
And the height of my non-experience frightens me
Like a lion instead of a hermit
I determine to fight
in a camisole turned inside out accidentally.

.............................................
My nails are red the sky is blue sugar is sweet
and gives you cavities
such that you have to make an appointment with the dentist
your tooth aches and your bed is empty
love is asleep inside a hungry belly
and insatiable eyes.
.............................................
The cup runneth o'er
with fountainous pens
piles of paper and shifts of notes
scratched helplessly on aluminum foil
this place is awash with helpless mess
scratched out bleached pumpkins and seeds unfit for eating
old abandoned and mildewing, what IS this place?
...........................................
a dewy delight
a change of perspective
socks with crap stuck to the bottom of them
i hate that.

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

My glamorous life.

My life is not filled with red lipstick and scrumptious dinners on the table by 6:00 sharp. It's not bursting at the seams with glamorous walk-in dust-free closets and bi-weekly manicures. My life is not littered with fresh flowers, perfectly styled outfits, trips to Ireland, deep-dish cookies and two hour workouts.
These things all sound nice to me. But most of the time they are not my reality, nor anyone else's. Let's stop kidding ourselves.
Because the dishes in my sink are piled so high they've started to stink--or maybe it's the carpet still a little droopy from getting ripped up after that flood last week. The hair on my head is a little frizzy from a bike helmet; the clothes on my body are a little wrinkled; my nail polish is a little chipped; I'm over it.
We all have to live.
And I think that's just fine.
Not to say that these things aren't fun for me to look at and configure every now and again. Not to say that we should be proud of sloppiness or dirt. But just to say, I choose reality. It really is better.

Oh, and hey really gorgeous girl who keeps posting photos of ridiculously skinny and buff women couched in self-motivation? I feel sad about that. You deserve a cookie. Perhaps I'll make it deep-dish for you.
That's all.