my egg tooth

it has taken me
a lifetime
of butting my head
against walls
to finally
grow
my egg tooth
which erupts now
in all it’s glory
a narwhal
tusk
miracle
jutting from my
smile
as i plot
my escape
my
own
rescue.

okay. i really like this idea.
however i needed to argue with fidgit about whether or not mermaids have gills.
he says because they have boobs (indicating mammal-hood) they must not have gills.
i say that there is no way they could live in underground kingdoms without having gills and that maybe the boobs are ornamental. i do not remember ever seeing a mermaid breastfeed…but maybe their culture is as stupid about that as ours is and mermaids are forced to breastfeed in secret….
nevertheless!
i really like my words.
the picture might need work.

in other precocious kids news, poppy (who is a bit of an ass man) was shouting into my bottom while i was doing dishes, then assuring me the sound would come out my nose.
i thought it was hysterical.
i apologize to future romantic partners of my children.

and now misha is asking for a picture of her as a mermaid. i should have seen that coming.

at least angst is an effective muse

he is the drink
that i shouldn’t take
the fall from grace
the downward spiral
to hopelessness
& a crippling
lack of faith
he is the drink
i shouldn’t take
the step towards
no control
my soul crumpled
on the floor
forgotten panties
stained & unwanted
he is the drink that i should say
no!
to.  the drink i should
feel strong enough to
avoid.

…why am i not strong enough?

i say, “i feel this way.” next time we fight he mirrors my words back to me. some fucked up mind game. some
fucked up
mind
game.
does he even know he is playing?
i wonder.
is it a reflex? a survival technique? does he want to hurt me?

or is he just protecting himself?

journal

you’re overthinking it, em. i tell myself. what do you want?
what do you feel?

journal2

i don’t want to share my life with him.
he is a big parasitical turd.
i don’t want to share my life with him.
we go for a walk in the woods where i grew up.
where i wandered & where i found myself
the first time i was lost.
my church.
i go into these woods with him, and i feel like it is sacrilege.
he shouldn’t be in my church.
i shouldn’t let him near my soul.
my being.
it isn’t safe.
i don’t want to share my life with him.
is this a want? or a warning? an instinct?

journal3

maybe he’s right
maybe he isn’t the problem
maybe i am the problem
but that does not change the fact that i do not want to share my life with him.

 

fly away

so many of my drawings
i want to name “escape”
only to realize that i’ve already
named a drawing that
why am i so often
thinking of escape?

i have this ex-husband
who emails every once in awhile
all flirty and remorseful
wishing he hadn’t
wished me away
even proposing marriage
once more.
but the minute i say
“where was this love
when you had me?”
he disappears again
saying,
“i will bother you no more.”

until the next time
he is filled with flirty remorse
i suppose.

i have this ex-husband
who likes to lie in wait
like a lion watching for a limping
deer
he waits for me to weaken
and pounces
all big blue eyes
and intense energy.
devouring my heart
my soul
and leaving me
empty.

i have to die inside
to push him away
because he is an
infestation.

i am angry
so angry at these two men
so fucking pissed off.
i am sport to them
but they want to call it
love.

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