crusty & morose

my soul
is dislocated
i cannot feel
but a raging fire
with light showers
of disgust
& several hues
of irritation
life feels like
that i am hungry
to eat
some of
but then the rest
is left
to become
a half-finished

it’s like a drinking game for mixed metaphors. ha! i am starting to feel better. doing art has relieved some of my angst. but it is still there. seeping. dripping. getting under my foundation and uprooting all my so-called progress (i had to throw in another fucking metaphor.)
i feel ugly & fat & my hair is just stupid & everything sucks.
i will keep drawing & see if i can ink myself out of this corner. (does that count as a metaphor?)

credit to evelyn de morgan for the illustration today. she is pretty awesome & all of her artwork just oozes gloom & doom.

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