A Rock in Your Shoe

When walking along a path,

you may find a rock in your shoe.

It may cause you pain over and over,

until you give in and ignore it

or take your show off and remove the rock.

When choosing to remove the rock,

one must be careful to not pick up

something to cause more sharp pain

like a piece of glass when you

dip your toes back in your shoe.

You may think you were making

your situation better by not allowing

yourself to be burdened by repeated pain

when actually you are opening up

to deeper, intense pain like me.

Don’t be a fool like me.

Safety Blanket

What was your safety blanket as a child?

Mine had Noah’s ark and ruffles on the edges.

Or maybe it was a toy that made you feel

secure and melted your troubles away.

As you grew up, what did you turn to

to get that same feeling of safety?

What makes you feel secure and loved?

I haven’t had a safety blanket in about 15 years,

Those ideas of security and safety are just concepts

that I can’t grasp my insecure head around.

I crave those feelings but most days it’s like

I’m grasping at straws hidden in a foggy haze.

I long to find that one thing that brings my innocence back

since it always finds ways to be taken from me.

So I ask again, what makes you feel safe and secure?

Or  am I destined for a life on the edge of uncertainty?

Look in the Mirror

Look in the mirror

and what do I see?

All the reasons

no one will ever

want to love me.

My chin is round.

My face is lumpy.

My fat rolls make

me far to bumpy.

My lips are chap.

My teeth are not straight.

Is it really a wonder

I’ll never find a date?

My image is too wide.

My arms have fat that flaps.

I waddle, not walk,

each step my thigh claps.

My stomach is attrocious.

My legs have no appeal.

I’m going to die alone.

I’m only being real.

 

Isn’t It Funny?

Isn’t it funny how

concerned you are now that

if I go to the store,

I could catch an illness

and die,

but yet

where was this concern when

an illness was inside me

making me want to die

the last nine fucking years?

What I Needed

I needed you

on that cold January day

when I met to get my fix.

 

I needed you

when you denied me

and left me in the dirt.

 

I needed you

as my eyes froze

shut with tears.

 

I needed you

as my hand clutched

the pill bottle in my pocket.

 

I needed you

to keep me from myself

ending my life.

 

I needed you

and you left me there

to pick my own self up.

 

I needed you

but I don’t now,

That was 7 long years ago.

 

I don’t need you anymore.

 

A Million Thoughts…

A million dreams sound beautiful,

poetic, hopeful.

But have you ever had a million thoughts

racing through your mind at the same time?

Because it’s actually a fucking disaster.

Forget about dreaming about

the world we’re gonna make.

I just wonder about this bed I’m supposed to make

and how the idea is just entirely overwhelming

in the grand scheme of things

when I can’t even get out of it

because I’ve already thought of 8 different ways

I’m going to end up in prison

for not wiping the germs off

of a damn toy car often enough.

and that’s just the last minute.

So trust me:

A million of something is keeping me awake

but I don’t think they’re dreams.

Reality Check

Reality Check:

Life’s a dick

and you’re only kidding yourself

if you think locking yourself

inside your house will

keep the bad things from happening to you.

It may keep out a stupid virus,

but far worse things can happen

when you put somewhere

you feel too comfortable.

Trust me I know.

4 walls can keep out a lot,

but they also hold a lot in.

Your Most Vulnerable

Insecurity lurks in the deepest part of you,

waiting until you are at your most vulnerable

before sinking its teeth into you.

For me, it’s when I get too comfortable;

blur the lines between my hopes and my reality.

I think If I repeat something enough,

it surely will become true with time.

That’s not always the case.

I try to love myself and make myself believe

That I am good enough and deserve to feel good

but that listen voice whispers in my ear,

when I’m at my peak; all alone:

“But actually you don’t.”

It’s poison keeps dripping, from sharp fangs.

The rolling rock gains momentum:

“You don’t deserve anything really.

You’re kidding yourself if you could ever believe

that you can ever be happy, find love, feel pleasure

because why on this earth would anyone ever choose you?”

Words can cut you worse than catching a falling blade.

You realize what you’ve done moments before

you feel the pain; see the blood.

Insecurities find ways to surprise you

and remind you that when you think you are at your strongest,

you’ve actually never been weaker.