my brain feels like it needs fiber, like it is constipated, like it needs a vowel movement
there is so much thunder but no lightning
noise but no illumination
crashes and collisions but nothing makes it real
my heart thunders like a stallion broken free and racing through the night
or some other overly masculine sexual metaphor or simile
more fucking words
is this what it feels like? did I rumble and tumble and accidentally lose myself in the currents of this white water rapids with no boat or oar
why can I never get her face out of my mind even when I slam my head into the wall over and over and over
banana spiders and bloody chinchillas being slowly fed into an anaconda ball
I feel like a contradiction, an abstract notion, a paradox
undefined often denied, subtly decried, beguiled reviled and defiled
take your expectations of me and shove them up the collective ass of the holy order of crimson flame
order of the golden dawn, the biggest sigh the most dramatic yawn
take a bite of the golden apple of dischordia and watch the ground drop out from beneathe you
I am beneathe you
groveling at your pretty little toes for a moment of pure unrestrained bliss
begging to love you while trying to maintain that same demeanor of a doctor about to give bad news, or the family about to receive it, or the person on the bed being spoken of
it is confusing
imagine a circle has four sides, but is not a square, it is still a circle but not
I am a squircle
I want to beg you to jump into the ice blue flames with me, to swim through this scary new place
dip a toe in the shallow end
I only know how to dive
but at an awkward angle, not quite right on, is that a sand bar that is a sand bar landing with a broken neck and paralyzed of the dick and balls
just desensitized
a light tingle
if you feel a tingle in your dingle make sure to swab the knob
you swab that knob you dirty little slut, work it like a butter churn but look disgusted
that’s it, imagine what your life could have been, where you could be instead of mucking the stalls after truckers yank the crank
this is a love story but a secret sort
shhh
don’t forget to work the balls
A constipated brain 🤔
LikeLiked by 1 person
the vowel movement was needed. ugh. I was trying to find my voice.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I like it, it made me smile
LikeLiked by 1 person
Stella was here 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂 this one. Well done. Your masculine is showing here… you know I like that.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This was when I was learning to write again. It had been ten years since I had written anything. It was not long after the break up and after I realized my initial idea of blogging about dating wouldn’t work because I have nothing to offer women. Lol
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s unique and raw. That’s the best writing, many times when we are hurting. You and I both have this, I think we’ve talked about this before. You just are much better at expressing it through your writing!:)
LikeLiked by 1 person
And the last line is not true!! You have so much to offer a woman. Any woman would be lucky for just a second of your attention.
LikeLiked by 1 person
you are sweet as can be ms bailey, and i am lucky to know you because you seem to see a me ie have yet to meet.
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂 thanks . Lol Mikes got a big heart, there are scars all over it but it’s big. Your love saturates your words and your protective nature is very comforting. Im thankful for your friendship.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Always
LikeLiked by 1 person