The Gun

The gun is pressed to your head
and your drink is empty.
Tears are flowing
down your face
while anxiety is flowing
through your veins.
Imagining the click of the shaft
gives you an excitement
you have never felt.
Do you press the trigger?

Beautiful Release.

The longing to hit the
highway
and drive to the sun
is intense.
Living on a caffeinated rage.
You need a release.
Nicottine stained fingers are a reminder
so you give in to
the temptation.
The burning crackles
while you suck hard,
and exhale the delicious mist.
You feel the mind numbing tension
pull out of your veins.
Life no longer seems irritating.
Beautiful Release.

at times like this

what is there to say
at times like this.
at times of despair,
and fear.
at times of sickness
and intensity.
it's so easy to be hopeless
in the middle of all the despair
and fear
and sickness
and intensity

but you are wearing your brave face.

the way it is

the way it is can
cause you to freak the fuck out.
life is exhausting

morning

skin to skin
legs entangled
hand in hand
relaxed
eyes closed
breathing each other in
alarm goes off
damnit.
morning.

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A bad day in MommyLand.

The end of the day and
the lights are all off
The fan is on, and its breeze
is relaxing.
As relaxing as this moment can be.
Scratch marks in her shoulder are
a reminder
of the defeat she feels.
Always fighting,
never listening.
Her children are winning.
What happened to her cute babies?
Rolly and drooly and perfect?
Snuggly and soft and warm.
She sits on her bed and sighs
Overwhelmed
Scared
Alone
Not knowing what to do, or
how to win
this battle.