Timing

I will stop.

Just before I get old.

Just before I get sad.

Just before I need too.

Just in time.

F2

Do not fall in love with girls like me

I will take you to museums, and parks, and cathedrals,

and kiss you in every beautiful place,

so you can never go back to them without tasting me

like blood in your mouth.

I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible.

And you will understand why storms are named after people 

So worth it

Brain, sorry for the confusion. Tummy, sorry for the butterflies. Pillow, sorry for the tears. Heart, sorry for the damage.

Encompassing

One day he hugged me so tight. So tight all my broken pieces stuck back together again.

What He Wants

I gave him just what he wanted.

Adonis tears on my crisp white sheets.

His muscles danced under my finger tips.

Breath baby. There you go.

He expels only a sob.

Not holding back the strong woman smiles.

in the air

Met a guy I used to know. Have a drink. Stuff in the air. Ask him about his current fortune. He shakes his head. I take a sip and remember the past. Passionate. Car crash. Hanging on for both our lives. How about you, he asks. I shake my head. Lonely, he sighs, licking his mauve glistening lips with the tip of his tongue. I nod. Stuff in the air.
I know want he's thinking. But it wouldn't work, he likes bitches. I wouldn't stand a chance. Broken in two. Torn to pieces. Sip my drink. Contemplate sleeping around. Ignoring his needs. Treat em mean. Pretend I don't give a fuck. Spend the day impressing losers. Ignore the phone calls. I know how to do it - I just don't like the rules. He licks his lips once more. I smile. He smiles. Stuff in the air.
I watch him reminisce. I gave him stuff. Stuff the bitches could never give. I made him feel. Really feel. I noticed the tiniest things about him. I made him question the reason he sleeps with shallow polished ice blocks that leave him emptied out on the floor. He smiles at me. I smile at him. Stuff in the air. Fucking hell.
Then it begins. Sucks me in. Pushes me away. He licks his lips more slowly this time. Allowing the wine to linger a little longer. Begins to stretch his broad shoulders. Smiles. Doesn't say a word. Not a single word. Just leaves me hanging. Waiting. Wanting. Say something. Anything. Nothing. Not a single word. Then with one dismissive shake of the head, he pushes me away once more. Torn to pieces. Broken in two. He just laughs. He just laughs. 
Time to go. Just one more, he begs. Still playing with the possible maybes. Life. Politics. Teenage nightmares laying naked on the table. He is amazing. Fucking amazing. If only he knew. But he doesn't know. That's why he likes bitches. Treat em mean. Torn to pieces. Playing with fire. Stuff in the air. He smiles at me. I hold back the tears. Time to go. Time to go.

Hook

I look at him and think it would be so easy. Too easy.

It would only take a little suggestion, the slightest flirtation.

He is after all in the comfortable fun friend zone. He is just waiting to be invited in closer.

I could take him home with me tonight. Temporarily fill what is missing. Warm my bed, entice a laugh. Keep me from being alone.

But what would I do with him in the morning? He'd make me tea. Fix my garage door. Find excuses not to go as I pushed him out.

After the fifth morning after text I would regret my weakness, questioning my impulsiveness.

Until I was horny again.

Blue to Red

She opened the Christmas gift that first year. It was so easy to shop for her then, she had nothing.
 The heavy box said "Le Creuset" and that brand of cookware was just what she wanted.

But they were blue. She had wanted red.

He watched her face as she unwrapped the  blue corkscrew opener and she would never use as she didn't drink. "I know you wanted red. but I have always liked blue the best."

She kept the glittery paper between them as she opened the expensive blue bean pot that would stay high out of reach, along with the useless fish pan.

She should have tried to smile more. It won't have killed anyone.
"
"If you don't like them you can always retry them', he said his voice becoming more angry.

No she couldn't. He had purchased them in another state and had already submitted the receipt to his company. So she just thanked him again.

The Dutch oven she used often. Until he broke the knob of it's top and left cabbage simmer dry to burn it's bottom beyond use.

She will figure out a way to buy her own for her little kitchen and any dishes for him will be served cold.

Post Script

I meant to tell you more,

 like how my aunt Lila  massaged Nixon and I wanted to kidnap your dog for an anti spa day. I read your business blog, every word to try to understand what you do so seemingly effortlessly. I never shared how I wanted to groom you like a mother primate. That I could never figure out when you where showing me professional face, so I rarely believed you, even though you never did me wrong. How my legs would shake on my way to see you, and when I seen you the shakes turned to butterflies in my belly. When I was alone I would do impersonations of your impersonations and giggle. I had seen the cash you were trying to give me and tried to run down the stairs so you wouldn't. How when I climbed into your sexy little car I felt I was stepping onto the closet of Narnia, because your world was magical and foreign to me. I wanted to tell you all about that time I was in New York and had the most delicious food and was taken shopping for the most delicate lingerie, but you were there. I want to reminisce the winter the saw mill went on strike and the family lived on peanut butter and potatoes but kept that to myself. I wanted to confess after I smeared lube on your eyeglasses when you were in the bathroom and drew hearts on the lens but didn't. I wanted to tell you how much I love you and  would never hurt any part of you, but that was only part right.

Suicide Ghosts

You don't always see the suicide ghosts, but their all around you. Fuck, I'm one.

I wasn't always so vague. Oh hell no. I was full of life. I was sunshine and warmth in human form. Full of virility. My future shined and I floated with my feet on the ground. You seen and felt me when I entered a room.

But I was not invincible. Not even close. Suicide ghosts are victims only of their own smug ego's. They get too big for their strong bodies and the physical form can no longer hold them

Bam! I never seen myself coming. I was above myself.

Empty and hallow now without emotion is how I spend my days. I hurt too many people, there is no pain left for me.

So I spend my hours drifting about. Cold and empty.You will think you see me occasionally, but not really. I am mostly invisible and you will look right through me. For those I love I will on occasion turn the karma up so they do not forget me. Most of them anyway.

Memories. At least I have the memories.

Falling in a Rainbow

It was an in and out deal. Fast. Easy. Done.
"What kind of veggies do you want with dinner?"
She knew later never to spring a question like that on him. Pre question him before the real question. "I wonder what I should make for dinner tonight?", is an excellent set up question so he had time to think it over. When he said a question it came out as a statement. Which made his statements a question.
"Oh. how about parsnips? Ever had parsnips?"
That was too many decisions for him to think on all at once. He wanted to please her.
"Yes", he answered wild a panicky bewilderment in his eyes. His tone of voice told she otherwise.
"Why don't you grab us a couple?", she told him as he was the one standing in front of the tubers.
The man bagged up two rutabagas and put them in their cart. He stood there like a big puppy hoping for her approval.
Later while they were sitting on the couch enjoying their dinner he ask, "Why have you never cooked these for me before?"
She laughed at his statement and promised she would again.
"I love you" he said. But she didn't need to answer that question. He had thought on it a long time.

Lunar Tick

Flow sweeps in on the full of the moon
a parasite with no regard
to the werewolf's she eclipses with her wrath.
Run, my friend run.

The Day Her Yoga Pants Ran Off

She found a yoga class on line and went to get her pants out of the closet. They weren't there. She checked the jammie/stretchy fat pant secton. And the black pant area. They were not with the chefy pants or the substitute teacher pants.The group home pants stayed in a group of their own so she did not waist her time there. They knew better than mingle with the prison pants. Puzzled she went as far as to bend over in her big now torn apart closet to check the special lacy drawer to see if they had got board waiting for her and had gone to seek out their own excitement. No luck. They were long gone.
She sighed and plopped down in the tangle of cloth on her closet floor. How long had they been gone and she never even noticed their disappearance? Did they leave of their own accord or where they taken? Maybe they snuck out in a gym bag. Those soft pants may have went wrapped around a wayward kitten or used to soak up spilled kool aid before being tossed. She just hoped they had not hidden behind her dryer so long they instantly combusted to end the wait. Really pants, are twenty years too long to wait?

Chair Dancing Chick

The girl in the chair behind me dances in her chair, I hear the swish swish swish as she practices the foot work. I wouldn't notice it in her soft shoes but she is so short her feet only graze the top of the carpet. It might not bug me so much but I am trying my best to remember this shit. Some of it I once knew, most I never did. More than likely I never will unless the little Hmong chick knocks it off.
I have worked on her in my other class. She is build like a squat little tea pot. A tea pot that can move like a willow and bends like over cooked pasta.
I breath. I practice my breathing and try not to snap. This baby girl is doing what she does. She is a dancer. The rest of her dance troop lead by the mother that is twice her size but half her statue could hurt my anatomy worse than any mangled body shown on the white board up front.

Life's Turn

Dear Life,

So you went and flexed your muscle and got me fired. Fired. Me! I'm the firer. I fired that job. Fired it I did with my pistol and one straight shot. BAM! I stopped showing up for work. Dismissed my firepower all over your face. Save yourself the walking papers, filling them out is more work than I ever did for you, Munkay.

Life's Passages

Dear Life,
I thought I was traveling down your road when the metaphysical me cut off the physical me. And I was in the left lane! After my third Red Bull I caught up to myself. What were you and your multi personalities doing in the carpool lane? Good thing that cop didn't see ya there. Lucky for you I distracted him with all my swerving and yelling, "Save me! I'm having a heart attach here!" Thank the energy drink for my fine acting and quick thinking ability eh.
Going back to the couch now waiting for the other me to join me, Munkay

Life's Journeys

Dear Life,
I'm just gonna lay here on the couch another day and watch you pass by. Send me a post card when you get to where ever you are going. I've seen faster snails.
Closing my eyes for just a minuet, Munkay

Lifes Meow

Dear Life,
Why does the word "crazy" always precede "cat woman"? Why not "loving"? Why not "Humanitarian"? Or "Felineatarian" if you must label specific. "Empathic" would work for me.
"Sensitive". "Smoking hot multi talented" even. Wanna descriptive catchy term? Try "Inequitably superior intuitive intelligent level spanning femme fatale"? Rolls off the tongue don't it. Almost like a purr.
You change that while I change the litter, Munkay

Lifes Tricks

Dear Life,
Down right deceitful that's what I'd call it. The food pyramid is now a pie and that pie is the anti-pie. Don't eat sugar that foul pie says. Moderation in fat. LIAR! It's the veggies that kill. Damn homicidal produce. Listeria in melons. Salmonella in grape tomatoes. Spinage that gives you the runs. Shit in strawberries. Ok call it E-coli if you must but it will kill ya. Sugar never hurt anyone. Its side effects maybe but hey. Dentist need to make a living too.
Come over for coffee and dessert soon, Munkay

Kent

You.
You took my husband.
You took my social standing.
You took my trust.
You took my reconnection.
You took my time.
You took my future.
You took the family.
You take that piece of shit.
You can have him.
You.