Regurgitated Back to Life

{Rusted. Oxidized & immobilized.}

Jokes, jeers, deep breaths and tears secrete out my face, in defeat each drop stings resembling mace. Mixing emotions; like a fucked-up cocktail, swashing around the head cavity, leaving the skull stale. Wets the whistle with lies that fizzle reality, impairing the true identity of what is killing me softly. Intoxicating the brain and dehydrating the heart, in vein each gulp feels identical to swallowing darts. Hosting ingredients of destruction, this “fine” gent sips away at the concoction. Roaming across earth’s planes demasculinized and fragmented. No sense of direction, propelling me into the “inevitable” self-annihilation.

“Damaged goods” categorize, us, the misunderstood. Those incapable of comprehending the gravity of what drags us into misery. Pain, fear and uncertainty follow me to bed. Overpowering the positivity forcefully fed. Constantly surrounded by love and the reminder of being loved, cannot suffice my void. “Ignore the emptiness and strife through life with a smile” are hollow reminders repeated in hopes to cover this self-loathing hoard. So, strategically I move over life’s chessboard. Murdering pawns, nabbing fawns, this knight galivants avoiding real contact. Then, truth beheld of the queen in bed with a rook. Raided the king and took what was good. Crashing down came a kingdom once built with trust, leaving me lost in rubble and dust. Insecurities arise in the mind, with the impression that I’m the reason for its demise. Mindsets of not being able to keep a castle afloat and would prefer to just drown in the moat. See, I provided however it was not enough, to keep the queen’s legs from splitting abrupt. The queen sent her apology. No reaction. I cannot conceive why such action would take place, before the opportunity to meet face to face.

What hurts me more, is knowing that the truth was stored. Kept away from the light, though there was enough time to make things right. Seafaring and taking flight, going across oceans and mountains always keeping “hope” in sight. Still providing and offering, accompanied by a furry cohort once shared. Yet, the queen would just stare. With the harsh truth holding her tongue, she kissed and said “I love you” from dusk ‘till dawn. Brave attempt to take the truth to the grave.

Apology accepted, though tremendously burned in the fire, I recognize the reality of the flesh’s desire. However, the time spent and shared does not feel the same and trusting people is now a game. The “I love you[s]” that I heard seem forged (like “fugazis”) since love is scorned. Playing Russian Roulette with the hearts of the innocent, because another broke this abundant feeling-bank to cents. Selfish because those offering their entirety to one, cannot receive the same back from the wounded chum. TIME TO GET OFF TINDER AND STOP PUMPING THE CROTCH GUN. Not loving myself entangled with a fear of being alone is what fuels this emotional drone. Knowing I’m loved and not knowing how to reciprocate. What I felt as love has gone frail and has no advocate.

Expelled like vomit and expected to live “normal,” I must try to move forward. Gradual. Weighed down by the funk of distrust, chasing love and not another nut bust. My heart tamed and shamed from queen’s wicked game. I ditch the play, and pray to stop feeling helpless as I stress to be saved by an amorous GODDESS.



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