day seven

day seven at madness manor
sexy…so not sexy
my house is sexy
not i
forgive me my sins
my trespasses
i would better serve you
if i were
sexy
fuck.
i’m lonely
…if i buy it
build it
will he come?
my handy
man
yes?
to my sexy
house.

so i started being a “free-aholic” in the spirit of “freegans” …in that i am only drinking when the alcohol is free. so i’ve been mostly sober lately.
however
my ex husband brought me a six pack of strong beer when he came to take the minions.
this poem is the result of drinking two of those too closely together.
yikes.
but i do feel very lonely. i look at myself, alone, and i feel such a profound pain. i think maybe my pain can be heard. like a siren’s song?
ah. a journal page for another day.

(this was written on day seven, but posted on day 12)

so not gmo

how many generations
of fucked
uped
ness
is there
in my bloodline?
if i were
livestock
i would have met
with the butcher’s block
to prevent further
tainting
the herd.
is it a crime
against
nature
that i continue this
–yes, handsome, but
what of it’s
psychotic & chaotic
nature–
line of creation?

so…troubles with momming of late. convinced i am the lead monster of a pack of monsters….
sigh.
have i mentioned how much being a single mom just sucks ass?

on another note, i really liked what i did here changing it up by using pink skin tones rather than white space.
it’s an experiment….

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