wax poetic

Its been a better day, the asshole that decided to be disrespectful has never ever apologized but he acts as if everything is peaches and cream.  Honestly, I can’t bother with it anymore, some days its not worth it.  I still have to work with him but I don’t have to like him, I can be polite and friendly and deal with it – I’ll be the bigger person I guess, I don’t think he has it in him.  Work otherwise is good, busy there is always something else to do and something else to figure out.  I enjoy that part of it, it keeps me on my toes!

I needed to vent so this is what came

I don’t
can’t
always wax poetic
or slip between
and out
of the sheets like a blow up doll
losing the air you used
to inflate
massive ego
or pencil dicks
its got to be more than
sweat
just like the poetry
has to be more than the words
I speak
and you don’t hear,
pulling breath
from lungs
watching the collapse
of civilization
in the way
I close my eyes and look away –
some days I’m so
damned jaded,
blue
turned green
and I stew inside this body
that hates me,
the curves
mock
and the freckles laugh
at the way
I trace them myself,
words,
I trip over them
tongue thick with a fucking ache
limbs heavy
the sun shines too brightly
across
the shadows
and I can’t hide from myself
anymore