hard times fall on soft tongue palates

I receive each droplet. I know that I am in a spot I wish to leave, but my feet got stuck. God, will you assist me in that hole, look in on me from time to time as your lesser than, as your grown child? I know all this was before me, before me. Destiny being comfort, but so hard to eat. Heartache being it's lovely self, there to unravel and accept. I also know my mother is slipping away, and this causes me to bend in half and lapse into the mercy of that circumstance. And I know I have a way of getting back up. Because there is much to be done.

terrible clouds await.
I love that I'm alive to greet them.

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anyway

now I'm scared that if I actually leave, I'll never come home again, I'm going to make a list of what I need to do today and tomorrow just to function, first by getting off this fucking computer, out of control again, heads up

inspired by the pursuit of happiness

I have partially borrowed the title from the recent film, "The Pursuit of Happyness", I really loved the narration style, and how the film would stop when he'd describe parts of his life, such as: this is the part I call "running". Plus, the film and true story took place in lovely San Francisco, and that is where my husband and I were for 5 days and 4 nights. So. . . . .this is the part I call, getting off the plane, and how the F to we get to the city? A minor, but essential detail I failed to plan or even think of when booking the trip. Planning, something I just skipped so in turn, we were a little confused, a little lost, and because of it, it turned out our room was communal living. That is the part I will call, are you f''n serious? We were tired, we were hungry, and we'd been on 3-hr flight, and a quite speedy train for about 45 minutes, and the room which appeared modern spacious online, turned out to be a box, probably 10x12 feet if that. T...

black and white

I decided to watch a black and white movie alone. I love doing that because I love b/w movies, and it makes me feel like my mother is watching with me. Sometimes I'll even ask her questions. And I wonder if my husband will hear me speaking to myself and wonder why. "mom, who's that actor?" sometimes I look around to see if maybe she decides to answer me. from up there. tell me things about this movie no one else would know. because they aren't movie people like us. a few nights ago I fell asleep. and then the darkness came with the fear that likes to rent space inside my heart, the scared piece of it. the smell of fear in my nose and on my tongue. I woke to the acrid air, my lips mumbling. I know it's that damn couch that likes to give me nightmares. falsely lulling me. black and white movie music. until I feel shaky and sick. but I can't tell won't ever tell what happened in that bad bad dream. those are words I don't dare ...

dirt verse

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