strong in the force

i can feel you
in my bones
like a nostalgia
you can wear
snug
& warm
comforting but suffocating
i can feel you
& i watch
for you to
somehow
wander back into my
life
while telling myself to
knock it the fuck
off
i can feel you
in the tears
i can no
longer
cry
but
still
do
i can feel you
like an impending
thunderstorm
the smell of rain
anticipation
hope.

it has been almost five months since i have looked at his instagram. but i did look, after the dreams started. and he is in illinois. chicago, at least.
and i can imagine him coming to see me.
i can imagine it so vividly.
the look on his face
what he would say….

there are just two men whom i have actually, truly loved out of the dozens–yes dozens–of men whom i have known, you know, biblically….
once loved…always loved. that’s how i know the love was (is) true.
how do you forget something like that?

you don’t.

it pops up in your dreams to haunt you & you find yourself doodling him as the leia to your luke. (before it was known they were actually siblings)

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stream of consciousness…nipples!

sometimes
you just have to sit
& do nothing
to stare at the ceiling fan
wait!
i have chocolate cake
in the
fridge…
is it possible
i wonder
to fall in love
with just someone’s nipples?
no–
hear me out
black & white photo
selfie
just the torso
in a tight t-shirt
with magnificent nipples
shining through…
why are my ducks so loud?
incessant quacking and–
fuck…now i’m out of ink
how am i supposed to have a train
of thought
god i miss those nipples
ode
to an okcupid
nip pic….
i really need to figure my art
out
i really need to figure my life
out
what if…
no–i almost had it
the answer
the answer to everything
but then i just start thinking
about
obsessing about
those glorious
nipples.

so here’s a change of pace. just a random stream-of-consciousness about a stranger’s nipples…for those of you tired of reading about my obsessive attachment to an ex or my bouts of loneliness & self-doubt.
nipples!
i have been goofing off on online dating sites again. leave me alone all by myself in the middle of nowhere with my idle thoughts and then i’m all like, “you know who would benefit from these idle thoughts? random people on the internet!” and where do you find random people on the internet willing to listen to my idle thoughts (at least for a message or two….) that’s right–okcupid!
so there you go.
it’s like talking to myself…but with another person.
wait…you know what that is?
a motherfucking conversation!

i try to tweet, but i get a much better following on dating sites. i have no idea why. i’m honestly shocked when anyone actually responds to me or my profile. but strangely they do. it’s a nice little ego boost. maybe i should just post all my art over there…..

anyhoo.
i was drawing this self-portrait on this stream of consciousness piece and thought–that doesn’t look like me. but then i realized it does look like me–if i knew how to put on make-up. so i left the freckles out, assuming that make-up would cover them up. but look! i have eyelashes.
and i fucked up the hand again. it’s going in the wrong direction. i’m like dyslexic about fingers. so, you know what? it’s someone else’s hand.
now that’s sexy.

random thoughts

so i was thinking as i so gracefully exited facebook…all i want is a conversation.
that’s what drew me to facebook–and blogging for that matter–in the first place. i was unhappily married to dusty with two small children. i just wanted a fucking conversation.
but not with just anyone.
there is one person i really want to talk to.
so i pour my heart out.
i turn my soul inside out.
i beg & plead for someone to look at me…because he won’t. neither of them–dusty nor the other one.
just lonely. i’m just lonely. so lonely.
so i go on social media thinking that that will somehow stop the pain. but, of course, social media is like a big bag of emptiness.
false connections
inauthenticity
and i am left feeling even lonelier than i did before i went on there.

i just want a fucking conversation.
and the one i want it with won’t talk to me.
and the one who was supposed to be my next one & only, dusty, won’t listen to me and would rather break my heart over and over again than mend my already broken heart.

and i am alone.

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