tea party with demons

the voices come
& the voices whisper
“you’re fucked.”
it’s my nightly meeting
with my demons
they’ve come for a tea party
butter on toast
(monsters love toast)
it’s a thing
every night
the whispers
& epic songs
telling of my ultimate
& fanatastic
failures
i love my demons
i do
i might even miss them
if they were
gone
miss their nasty
little
whispers
& predictions
of doom…
but no worries
they are always
close by
to keep me
company.

a few beers & witchery with a friend had me singing this out about my demons. what is light without dark? what is good without mischief? i do love my demons. they keep me on my toes.

my big stupid mouth

my plan is
to never
leave my house again
to never
open my big
stupid mouth
again
to never be
foolish
to never
believe
i have something
worthwhile
to say
to never think
anyone
wants
anything
to do with me
again….

my social anxiety & i went to a meeting of like-minded rebels concerned about the forcing of masks on our community where there are zero cases of said virus.
i had so much to say, but quickly became overwhelmed by emotion & basically was only able to stutter out some randomness that probably did not even make sense.
i left the meeting feeling (ironically) even more alone than i had felt before finding the group. i felt like a social pariah.
see? this is why i do art & write & rarely leave my little bubble….

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑