my cruel
subconscious
that two-faced
cunt
has to know
what a mess i am
(it has a front row seat
to my pain)
so
why does it wait
until i am
asleep
vulnerable
to take a stick
&
poke me hard
in the tender spots
with dreams
of you?
nothing like a fresh obsession to get the journal pages going again.
while i wait for my latest case of obsession to pass, i am thankful that i am not really able to ride my bike past his house three times a day as he lives three states away.
and i have a houseful of kids
a yardful of critters
depending on me to not jump in the river of crazy and swim away.
so there is that.
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