1.
do you recall
moments spent
before the bathroom mirror
A toothbrush
placed
between pursed lips
sucked on
not brushed with
perched upon the bathtub sill
A balancing act
Constrained
a Pouted mouth
witted Glares
fill the empty reflection
a Duel has Begun
2.
I am a buckethead
a girl who wanders with
water
drip
drip
dripping
upon her chest
as heaving
crushes
attempts for aid
The pail wobbles
in a circular pattern
as the rhythm
of my steps
encourage its
everlasting
performance
I am a buckethead
3.
Ravenous.
A proper term
(I do believe) for my ridiculous hunger for life. It
GROWS
each day —Choking the previous
fighting
squirming
for more attention than its
precursor
It drowns my once absurd ability to simply subsist
Thank God!
BALLONS BECOME MARVELOUS
Mice become miracles
And people are appreciated, rightly, as brilliance.
4.
Hunger
Inhibiting it is in a determined way
Its pangs biting through
What may as well be
Years of callused struggle
Its reckoning provocation
Undulating beneath my skin
In a manner of stealth-like
Taunting
It warps my thoughts,
Spiraling in bliss as a result of
Sporadic
Whims- grips-pulses
Entwined, the pattern has grown into my current existence of starvation.
Isolation not from opportunity, wealth, nor the ostentatious
Flaunting of others.
Rather a slowly growing, ever
Becoming yearn for reality,
Insipid cry for insight
Tormenting desire for real.ity
5.
I stumble about with my stewpot thoughts
Of
Preemption
Desire
And
Age
Contemplative, often , the perspective of
Rage
As my smile
Defiantly grins
Towards…
I care not much for material life
Its sustenance a bit
Unfulfilling at times
But I do often wonder
“how can it be?”
That the stewpot resting
Upon
My
Head
Does not topple more often