A Day in The Life

I woke up this morning next to him, the sun just starting to filter into his room. His back was towards me, my body pressed, and slightly stuck to his skin from the humidity. I smiled to myself as my left hand began to trace the light house on his back.

An art piece that wasn’t finished, just an outline with visible broken lines and novice shading. He told me once,

“People place too much importance on tattoos. I just go for it, and don’t look back”.

I’ve always envied his free spirited, carelessness. His piercings, gauges, body mods, and works of art. Some in progress, some complete. . Beautiful in their own imperfections of his passions.

The Joker. Batman. Scenes from The Nightmare Before Christmas. A giant eagle grasping a pot leaf and a bottle of bourbon spread across his chest. And of course, the unfinished light house.

I slept the majority of the day, attempting to evade the ever growing list of responsibilities. “Adulting”, my best friend would call it. I think I am a professional procrastinator, but without the typical underlying stress.

Now, I’m three lines deep – motivated to write, chain smoking, while sweat beads on my skin. I love this porch. . . I can feel my heart beat ever so faintly increasing as it starts to kick in. The mania has me thinking about that light house, tempted to throw on some clothes and go. Maybe get an imperfect portrayal of one of my passions branded on my skin.


Assortment of Poetry

I went digging in my attic today specifically looking for all my old diaries and journals. I found two huge boxes filled with pieces of my past. I’ll admit, it bothers me that I can’t remember any of it. The pictures, the names, the memories, the art…none of it. The following is a collection of what I believe to be poetry that I wrote between the ages of 10 and 16. Also – as with all my posts, I do not edit anything. I replicate exactly how I wrote it so many years ago.

Let’s get this over with,
kiss my ass,
we’re through,
all I am to you,
is toxic gas,
slowly killing you,


Pointless are the days,
where I was innocent,
I’m a slut now,
at least I feel I am.

You love me…
I still wonder how.


No one can handle me,
they’ve all tried,
I’ve seen them stumble.

Get up!
Last one died.

Don’t let it happen to you,
please, I beg…
I care enough for you


Leave me here,
so I can watch,
men come and go,
to and fro.

Hiding from the fear – your voice so near…
My heart.


Tears are shed,
from what was said,
as the minutes filled with sorrow

You held me tight,
that special night,
and told me of the ‘morrow

It was good-bye,
for he and I,
I knew he had to go

He moved away,
and still today,
Oh, I love him so

I married myself today


to wake up with myself each morning,
to know I am always here,
I am friend and foe to my own existence,
to be rid of myself,
would be to divorce

Push me out of my nest, my dear
I must struggle, and fly on my own
these chains are holding me so tightly, my dear
I must dance and twirl alone

You say you want the best for me
And I know that must be true
Thank you for everything you’ve done for me
Yes, I love you too