Poem: White mustang, no cigarettes

Poem: White mustang, no cigarettes

Out of all my vices
Got no more cigarettes
Marriage is a stretch, it’s far-fetched
A violent vehemence
That I got caught in because he said I was one of his regrets
One of his regrets
I’d protest to that
Absence of evidence

I’m a humble girl, I’m real cool
Catch me doing laps in the swimming pool
I objectify God; in all his heavens I rule
I’m not what you’re used to
But as strange as this fancy, rugged life turns out to be
I have a strange sense I won’t make it past thirty
What’s not to be is not meant to be
Coca Cola and vanilla ice cream in the evenings
Different rituals for different seasons
A stray cat, got loose, we’ll make it even
I lay back, underneath the sun, I’m gleaming
Strangers make strange choices for strange reasons

♥ Strangers make strange choices for strange reasons ♥

♥ I’m bored to death and my glamour is fading ♥

I’m bored to death and my glamour is fading
With every cheap trick you try
I glance out the window, months just fly by
My ego’s even on the same page, telling me to get rid of you
It’s like taking out the trash
One long-winded heroin crash
I pour myself a warm bath
Collapse
Small movements
Trembling
Hands around my knees, hold them close to me
Like when I held your hand, and my heart felt safe
You were looking real nice for what was a blind date
Cigarettes into ash, swear I thought it was fate
The way your fingers interlaced my wire front gate
Never over five minutes late

I’m made of caramel syrup & mocha drizzle
You taste it, you want more, I only give you a little
I’m fairly humble in my opinion
You’ll be home any minute
And I can’t wait until you get home and see my stuff is all packed
I’m going back to the city where we stayed on track
Listening to White Mustang on replay, back to back
Lana’s the only one to bring me joy
I know you’re starting to sweat, you’re feeling paranoid
It previously hadn’t occured to you that I’m someone you enjoy
The glisten on the shine of my watermelon nail polish
The sparkles of pink and white of my carefully creased eye shadow
I’m not meant for this household
Realistically it should only occupy one man
Quite frankly I don’t care if you do or you do not understand
We’re crumbling like an avalanche
I’m coughing up sand

I stayed in your company because God, I love snow
I love champagne and wearing conservative dresses to the company engagements you’d invite me too
’till one day I caught your gaze, you looked oh so blue
Like the fakeness of it all finally got through to you
You realized you weren’t capable of loving a doll like me
Little bumble bee
Awfully cruel, brutal honesty

Out of all my vices
Got no cigarettes
I remember when you said I would become your favourite regret
You used to say I was heaven-sent
You remember that agreement we made behind a peach sunset?
First one to leave gets custody

I’m packed
I’m through
I give you a note
“First one to leave gets custody”


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Poem: Burnt ash & perfume

Poem: Burnt ash & perfume

You told me that you wanted to read the poems that I end up not posting to my website
You said those are probably the best ones
I just thought you didn’t like my writing
Move my hair behind my right side
This is it
That’s all I have
There’s really no more of me
I sing too
When I’m blue
You swallow me

mailbox, letter boxes, post mail box

I bought the prettiest pink shower curtain
With ruffles on the bottom
Only a few days before my cat shred it to death
Which I thought was rather tasteful
Now it looks like someone got in a bad fight
I’m in for a fright
You call me, you ask to spend the night
Yeah right

I’m in here
Surrounded by black claws and thin ballerina dolls
That play eery slow classical sounds and spin around
I’m the director of this facility
I scan every body and send them either left or right
I don’t like what I do
It frightens me what is done
After the bodies go to the right
It’s not right

I’m attached to you
But I can easily remove myself
I learned by watching you

This is really all I have for you
It doesn’t get better
So when you are cold, and you put on my sweater

I hope the smell of burnt ash & rose perfume is gone

rose, flower, love

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Poem: Paranoid and proud (10,000 times)

Paranoid and proud (10,000)

Enigmatic, or desolate

I knock on your door slowly
Trembling
I don’t want to interrupt your work
You tell me to crawl over to the desk
I said babe, I’ve got a headache
My hair is a mess
I can’t pass your tests

I’m stupid and paranoid
None of your answers make sense
Where were you last Tuesday
Who was that in the car
You reach for another cigar
You’re the most beautiful boy but your personality is tar
You’re mean about my scars

A variation of you and me (but it’s just a fantasy)

The white roses have died
Is it me or my pride
That I always remind you of how my favorite man died
I know I’m a burden, I scream on the inside
Walking on eggshells
Tiny glass fragments
When you threw the vase at the wall because you couldn’t find your glasses
The white roses, they’ve died anyway
Entered a state of decay
Quite like I have, and it’s how I will stay
The light has left me, what do you make of my remains
I’m more revolting every day

Chaos and butterflies
Surprise me with flowers
Plant a tree every time you yawn when I talk about my interests
If this isn’t love or lust then what is this
Why do I sit on your lap every time you come around
How come I put my face to a pillow so that I don’t make a sound
How come you told me that the next time I get lost you hope I won’t ever be found
Like pitch black surround sound

I turn to the other side
I do my best to hide
Is that another exhibition of my pride?

You told me you loved to listen
You lied
Ten thousand times

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Poem: And that’s the price of fame


Life Is sweet, or whatever baby
My roses aren’t growing and your car’s not in my parking lot
I’m flowing like hot boiling water– crashing, pour me another cup, slowly in your ceramic mug over your chamomile tea bags
I’m soft like, all the time
Not ready to make you mine
Let the L-theanine take me to space
I like it this way
Me, making the rules
But I don’t want all of the responsibility
So I roll over and I see you
What you making for breakfast, hun
I put on my blue satin robe and walk to the kitchen
See you on the phone there, so I won’t disturb
Pour my arms around you like you’re the softest bedsheets I’m buying at Bloomingdales

Hidden targets
Embedded formats

You love my perfume
Stretch your tanned neck to smell mine
Hey wrap around me, I think you’re pretty divine

Teaching me stick shift with my eyes closed

You notice my salmon pink nails
Make fun of me for being a diva
Buy me the best ashy grey graphite for my sketches
Of wedding dresses and gowns
And torn down queens
For me to take to town
See who’ll buy
(I get mean)

You’ll be smoking cigarettes nearby
I’m so proud to say that you’re my guy
I tell people for no reason at all
But I’m trying to be realistic

rose, white, pink

I’m really trying to keep my love in
Not shower you, like I might
I know you keep telling me it’s alright
I’m filled with so much love, I want to throw it out
Into the grave distance, see if it will run wild
You and I, we both need a break, we need to get out
Take breaks from falling like a bumble bee
Bring me coffee from that coffee shop you hate
You’re adapting to me

And that scares me
That scares me
Camera flashes
Fine finances
Swim deep into the vast open sea
But let’s go, take a trip to Nebraska or Kansas
I’ll wear white cowboy boots, get in your 4 by 4
My crystal cove Coca Cola babe
You can’t hurt me yet
You can’t hurt me yet
You can’t hurt me yet
You can’t hurt me yet

I haven’t lost myself yet
But I’m seeing it in you
No, don’t hurt me yet
Don’t hurt me yet
You can’t hurt me yet
You can’t-
You can’t-
Please don’t hurt me yet

But life is sweet or whatever, baby

But life is sweet or whatever, baby

written April 7, 2021 at approximately 4:14 am

Ça fait longtemps que ma transformation intérieure a commencé.

“A really great talent finds its happiness in execution.” – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

I really like that sentiment and see how it can apply to the way my life has been slowly turning around. I’ve changed some habits, rid of others, and cultivated some new ideas regarding the direction I want my life to move in. These are stressful times, but the music I listen to, the art I create and surround myself with, and other peoples’ contributions- literary, research-based, or in social situations, all constitute the rise of this change in mentality. It’s been a long time coming and I’m not “here” yet, but I’m executing, I sure am executing.