I have a mirror,

in which everything I care about exists.

it reflects me back,

and there’s nothing beyond.

My eyes.

My face.

My hair.

My mouth.

My neck.

My thoughts on all those things,

and the world.

It’s all contained right there.

My whole life,

right there.

every thought,

right there.

my entire existence.


You’re in there too.

But you barely fit.

I’ve stuffed everything I can into one head.

Yet I mostly see myself.



I can’t tell if I’m writing poems or short stories anymore. The ideas I want to focus on are all so stupid. And that’s just to me, the person writing them. I wonder what it’s like to not self deprecate. Just reflexively. Easy as breathing or thinking (which appears to be difficult for some people). A light you can’t shut off, but instead of being hopeful and romantic, it’s persistent and frustrating. There is a light and it never goes out, but I wish it would Morrisey, I wish it would. Because my light is some distorted light. Traveled through too many panes of glass. Refracted to burn or blind. More damaging to my mind than darkness. But I can’t figure out how to shut it off and I fear what would happen to me if I did. What else wold be shut off in the process. My lovely sense of sarcasm? My cynicism? My anger? Because, even though these sound negative to most people they are part of what gives me my passion and love for things and people. I wouldn’t love so much if I didn’t hate just as much. Only I don’t think hate is a judgment. Simply a fact as well as a tool. Because anger is misused, but don’t blame anger. Anger is fuel. We have to learn how to put it in the correct reservoir.

I am a large collection of emotions and thoughts. There is a danger in eliminating too many of them without first understanding the consequences.



Disappointment waiting in the kitchen,
I’ve seen what happens to a big dream.
Your smile is fading day by day,
As I consider what comes next,
We both know the end is coming,
We can imagine the summer being over.

I can’t hold you any longer.
I know what I did when we started.
But I’m convinced there’s happiness.
If only we can find it.

I don’t love you at all.
No matter how much I force myself to live,
There’s never a future that makes this worth it.



I am a product of a society I think is flawed.

I am partly made of that society.

It is in me.

It infleunces me.

It controls my thoughts.

Why I’m happy to eat one intelligent animal.

But not another.

And why I thought all princesses were white.

And everything else was slightly bad.



Somehow, after being this person for years.

Before I can remember.

I am supposed to be able to change.

To erase all those non-memories of  years of life.

That would require me to destroy myself in the process.

I don’t know that I’m prepared to do so.

Or if I know how.




I have another wedding to go to tomorrow. This time it’s not my best friend and I’m not in the wedding and I don’t care about them. I seriously question the concept of family. Why does anyone want people who don’t add anything to the event at their wedding? Is it simply because it’s polite and we’re too far down the path to change that? It’s such a faux pas that it can’t be done or you’ll never recover in your families eyes?

So a hundred or so people will be gathered. I’ll be at a table that literally 80% of aggressively dislike the people getting married. Hey but it’s family! A number of us were plotting how to escape. If it was up to me I would have flat out said no thanks but it’s out of my hands and my suggestion of going to the dessert this week and having car troubles on the way back was dismissed. My car has been acting up too. It was bullet proof.

I find it annoying that it’s hard for me to do things I enjoy. Do you like sex? Most people do. Imagine feeling like it’s a burden. That’s how good things feel to me a lot of the time. Now I have to deal with shitty things. Not shitty inevitable things in life, like a bad job or long hours or a soul sucking, degrading existence, but unnecessary social nonsense.

Thanks society for working this out.