Blood of the Snail

Sometimes divorce makes you angry...see: It is about me. You hate me-hate our family-blame me for all your personal short comings-never found me attractive and just wanted to fuck other women so you left me. If you're "health" was bad-you wouldn't be trying to fuck other women---so full of shit. I am hurt---I feel betrayed. I'm allowed.

I'm so comfortable with my face-with my fat fucking thighs-with my imperfect smile and my thoughts that might not make sense to you. I'm comfortable reading a book and stopping and forgetting where I left off and picking up a new book to read. I'm comfortable with dirty dishes in the sink and my questionable nature you might find annoying and pestering. I'm comfotable.

I'm a multifaceted woman having a human experience. I'm not interested in a relationship-I just got out of a 25 plus year one. I raised a son-I cared for my sick mother-I was a good wife. Now back to thinking of me-and this is where I tell people to fuck off so I can remember what this feels like. I'm woman-hear me roar and all that. Let me experience life on my own-it's still brand new to me. I'm still adapting 'evolving' what have you---I'm still learning. I'm a student of life-a child of the universe. Just let me be. How would you react to the love of your life walking out on you? Watching your mother die a slow death? A small tiny wonder (me) as strong as I might seem is just crawling out of her shell. Let me cry on my kitchen floor-let me get drunk on Tuesday nights and write poetry on sunlit mornings while my dog sits by my side.  Allow me to be wild-sexy-carefree. Allow me to show my smarts, my lady-like demeanor or let me be cluel...

Life is pain. Life is sadness. Life is lonliness. Life is devastation. Life is sleeping, its dreaming. Life is being woke, life is joy, life is laughter, life is breathing, life is happiness in my eyes, life is having a child...raising a child and having the tiny boy suckle at my breast. Life is family, its sickness, it's travel, learning....life is hiding and being fearful. Life is overcoming, life is sharing, life is communicating, life is a sunset, its a flower in full bloom and petals fall one by one. Life is poetry and music and art, life is desolate and isolation, it's my eyes closed meditating and a white star is my focus. Life is resting your head on a blue pillow at 2p.m. while the sun is scorching the sidewalks outside your home. Life is rising to catch a train I've be er been on- its food on a burning stove while music fades in the background. Life is memories good and bad, its children's fingers on my cheek with a precious sticky smile and eyes gleam of hop...

My teeth were crumbling, falling out and turning to dust, i ran to the sink, spit out teeth and blood, looked in the mirror and new teeth were growing back I showed my mother my new teeth growing in,, she said they were  pretty and then felt my gums and said they were so strong

I'm dying inside He said he wants to leave me It hurts so much He said he sees himself alone, without me I see us always together

I feel like you're being ripped out of me and now that empty space sees void

The echo of the echo Is me Im despair of the vibrations we don't see Im the crumbling of the pillar The vagabond searching deep blue seas The sum of the nothing...that is me

That premise to me is actually a very powerful underlining statement to the braindead rhetorical question: "what is the world coming to" Well, I detest that rhetorical question because it's a generic response to humans being asked what they feel about societal pitfalls, and in truth the world is not coming to anything but it's own course based on scientific evolution in regards to just about everything or anything you can convey.  Humans are just fighting initial instinct...our instincts imo are the correct responses to every situation whether our ego allows us to follow through or not. Instinct is our human nature communicating to us and asking us to react. but we all fight it in hopes that we can make a change in our world by reacting differently to situations...reacting how we think others expect us to react instead of being ourselves.

A divorce for a woman....I can only think of 1 word and that's unfair. All I'm trying to do is get past the unevenness of it all. It wasn't my doing yet I'm expected to be crawling on my knees weeping and hidden away from the rest of the world. I am just what this situation made me to be, organically. I did not choose to be here but I am here and I just am like anyone else. Why does a divorce allow you to define  where I should be in life...right now or 10 yrs from now...isn't it so that no matter where we are it's because time brought us there

She layed there and inhaled silence, like something out of a Chagall painting...flowingly majestic, but still and ill formed. Almost perfect. Tiredly, she reached for a cigarette and placed a finger inside herself then threw the cigarette to the floor and grasped onto her pillow as she shut her eyes and thought of being felt and deeply understood and gotten on a level far beyond the pleasure of human touch. EV

Mechanical bird You sit alone Quite in fascination chirping oil can In my hand And sleep in contemplation Barren skies Floating land Lacks communication White clouds filling you... Killing you, mechanical bird Loveless words Pushing stray As you rust away An end to a perfect day. Wasting away. EV

Fideo, the way to your heart swirled away at a peculiar part of life that left me nestled Upon a stove that carries no flame No soup for the soul, oh please no, but a spoon and empty bowl Like lovers, grew cold As lovers Is lovers.. Fideo my lover yet nothing to hold A song without tune A bird without lark Sipping her through a bending fork And damndness so weak without any flavor Fide-oh my love, My heart, You took all my labor EV  

Refried Dreams He left me a cold plate of refried dreams He left me. His knuckles no longer crack in sudden dreary while I sleep. The shape of the moon is no longer the same And I melt at the sound of upside-down guitar strings. The dinner table holds candles and dust And there lies a plate of refried dreams Muddled and alone,  no longer bright My spice gets lost in the beans and rice of your life. EV

Don't buy me flowers, Just walk me through them Take me to them, to the quiet place To sit-n- dream and choke on gin Where our hands meet And you're missing again. Take me there So you'll feel safe Show me flowers Between our space. Gentle-sweet Like your nature Just like flowers And pain's creator Show me, Make me Whole A-gain ...missing again Drunk on gin High on me-in my hand In my head Eggs in bed Toast and jam- Morning juice Drunk on gin; In sunshine hour Minus him, Minus flowers. EV

You say this never bothered you But this was that And that was surely part of this... Whatever this is. I see fingertips tapping merciless on the counter top And to great surprise they aren't mine. I wait as you wait And I cry as you try And try And he knocks on my bedroom door As dove eggs cracking painlessly upon the floor