Self love

What do you do when your love fades?

When there’s a greasy film over thing and everyone?

The mirror’s face is not my own. How long have I had the scars? These creases creaking around my lids?

My mouth is empty and without my teeth, my tongues lolls out.

Truth streams forth.

Flecks of saliva permeate the atmosphere. All greasy with truth unwanted.

I loved myself in my youth.

Not because it was simple but because I was too polite to cause a scene.

I was all peppermint and rose quartz.

Now the truth is a darling friend that you can’t wait to evict after 2 am.

Now I am obsidian. Only able to cut you with the truth.

No one really wants the truth .

Just greasy and heavy and lonely.

Self love fades and is replaced by a withered face, savage tongue.

Truth has now replaced love.

Love is silly anyway, replaced by the sticky truth that clings to air. Humid, sticky air.

When self love fades, you won’t notice til you speak and smell the acrid, greasiness of truth stings your eyes.

Continue reading


A little visit

Scratching that line is such a relief


My nipples harden with excitement

Just a short vacation

Nothing serious

Let me peek around the room

Let me smell the damp rot that fills this room

Let me soak in this slimey, mildew coated tub

and awaken in my bed

No one will know I was away

No one will have even an inkling of my

intention to stay longer each visit

My mother has a room here

My father has a larger room.

There I spend the most time exploring.

Small photographs line the walls of each room

I search for mine

In it I am small and well behaved

It gathers dust

Each moment that passes makes me drowsier

It gets harder to find my way to my bed

I tell myself

I can stay longer

These rooms need tending to

Perhaps if I can stay

I can keep the frame clean



My eyes flicker from yours to yours to yours.

I am seeking a connection.

You thought you knew me.

My little bit of love may have overwhelmed you, but it was a trickle of My power.

You never loved me.

None of you ever did.

You thought my heart broke.

The wound was superficial.

None of you knew me.

None of you unworthy few knows what it is to be loved by me.

My calm love.

The one that flows fully and quietly.

You only knew the noise.

You thought that noise was love?

So daft.

That was less than a taste.

Less of the truth and only a sprinkle of what I am capable of.

It was nothing.

You may as well have been someone I held the door for.

You confuse my friendship for adoration.

My being polished for eternity.

So silly.

My eyes flicker from yours to yours to yours.

I’m seeking a connection.

In you?

I found a distraction.


Disney Villain

Who am I to believe in true love when I’ve never seen an example of it in true life?

When had a fairytale romance played before me so that I may lust after a similar reprise in my favor?

Short answer: never.

I am alone and this is my fairytale.

One where I am the villain destined to be alone.



Petals fall.

Dried they fall rather quickly.

Stomped beneath the feet of passersby.

None of who knew that they were once a symbol for love.

Dried husks of affection.

Nothing more than aged vegetation scattered down dirty streets.

Even nesting birds ignore the rubbish.

But I swear, I was once adored.

My petals fragrant, jewel-toned and the texture of velvet on skin.

Not a memory anymore.

Now a nuisance the wind blew up into your face.