tomboy / big tits / hermit / pleasing shit

He asks me if my hair was red as a kid.

But I don't know; I've been avoiding that girl-

photos of her smile and the reminder I was 

a caterpillar posed to be a butterfly.

Yet, I'm arrested, still in my cocoon a worm.

Nose too red when I cry, and I don't know

how to do make up right, scabby knees.

What's the latest fashion trend? Too much work

to keep up only for the change again and again.

I have a shirt I love older than you; it's not new.

Yea, can't take the photos to show I'm cool,

never wanted too, don't know my hair texture,

what's a pretty package if the inside is trashed?

Finger with the bandaid; it's not giving cute-

I tried. Feel written off, cannot give pleasing.

If I can't give optics, if I'm just me, will you like?

Can't name an influencer; fuck I thought

aesthetics was what Aristotle wrote about

back when it was mimesis, before Instagram,

when it was epic poems not pink hair bows.

Yes, it's human drive to create beauty-

       but what if it is literally JUST that?

With big tits, still good enough for the men.

Dark elbows, never gonna be one of the girls.

not prepared for anything here on out

The poet's job is to penetrate and expose

but what if I am just ivy still crawling

up and over a fence my mother built?

Women who've been sexually abused

have higher rates of constipation because

their pelvic muscles are tight and stiff.

Yet, mother said if a man tries to rape me

to just piss my pants, or better, shit. Disgust him.

A cursory porn search shows it might excite.

Another piece of would-be sound advice

                 but the body physically cannot.

a big man

got my robot mower on 24/7

so my lawn is always pristine

and I have an Invisible Fence 

but the dog still gets out,
grab her by the shock collar

to drag the bitch home

cause I'm a big man

      with a big truck

                a big dick

             a big mouth

            and a bit rich

get my pills in monthly subscription to:

          keep me hard (viagra)

          keep me swole (testosterone)

          keep me awake (adderall)
          keep me going (xanax)

give my parents grandkids
spit lemon seeds in my wife's face

but attend church every week 

                            so it's ok

No, I don't have time to chat

got to get this fucking dog home

drink another protein shake
                       work out
                   muscle and veins

           look at my gainz

then bounce to cocktails

            with powerful men

   I rub shoulders with generals

        the ones who sign off on a kill.

Don't my life look so good?

If you are driven enough

        you could be as cool as me.

silence between friends

Just as I was succumbing

    to the goals and dreams

of every girl I was before

you texted:

"There is a family of turkeys 

I see every morning 

and they are so precious and perfect 

but too fast for me to get a pic. 

Off topic but it felt important to tell you"

but it was on topic, I just never told you about

how I saw a psychic years ago

        she pulled the turkey card

and she warned me about this time in my life

            that I needed to be resilient and strong.

And somewhere in the recesses of your mind

you knew to tell me about the family of turkeys

And wrapped and sent me a gift-

        sister-strength and aunty-resilience

Even though I never told you about the psychic

Even though I never told you about the turkey card

Even though I never told you it was a hard day 

again,

You are a surprising light shining

from miles away on a dark day

and you couldn't know, 

            because I didn't ever tell you.

shock collar

knowing how it ends

I feel guilty I let

a found dog bark play

and run for the few

hours you were with me

now that to do so

will hurt you

a taste of freedom

worse than none at all

so easy to harm when

nothing at all could help

I wish I never showed you

all you couldn't have

another world where you didn't 

know what you were missing

I would know; I grew up in shock collar too.

another awkward guy hopelessly flopping about

Do you think the fictional guys Adam Sandler plays

know deep down inside they are a main character

or do they really not believe they could get the girl

even if it's been written into the script that way?

Cheers! Here's to hoping the storyline

is better than how we really feel inside.

I bled it all out in two days

      Sometimes I think we lost so much truth with translation. Like what if it wasn't that women in the past weren't allowed in holy places during menses because they were "unclean." But because they were "dirty" like of dirt,  of the earth, like of where we began and where we end up? In middle school I knew a boy whose father said to never trust anything that bleeds for a week and doesn't die. But I would trust anything that bleeds for a week and doesn't die for exactly that reason. Unlocked an ancient truth on how to survive...why wouldn't I listen? I should be listening and not speaking but that's not what I've been doing.

      I've been wallowing like a piggy in the mud in love of the fantasy. But the bleak reality is industrial slaughterhouse. Nail gun to the head, burn off the hair, leg still kicking, hanging from a hook, continue down the disassembly line. I tried to be hardened and practical but my efforts didn't last a whole week. I softened like cream cheese;  It's seems you should be less lovely. Try not to float when you walk. Have you tried that? Don't be so pretty or interesting. God, don't be smart. Don't exist in ways that makes people want to care for you or adore you. If you could only just do that. I want to belong in the earth not in the factory farm. But I think we both know where I'm going.

     I am formally petitioning God to intervene with a translator or editor to fix all that I say to be kinder and sweeter and clearer at least for a little while. I'm hurting everyone around me including myself and cannot stop. Maybe nothing needs said. Maybe I should and need to quit talking, quit sharing. I need left unread. I have nothing to give. I am borrowing from a child's empty piggy bank. I was bankrupt at birth. 

     I am bleeding like a stuck pig. Bleeding out so unclean and it is "unclean." It's not a translation error. I was born discarded from the start. Don't belong in holy places like Churches and Mosques and Synagogues or your life. I don't need a translator or editor, I need a time machine. Someone call my dead mother. Please tell her I need to be a newborn in the dumpster out back thrown out on prom night and never meant to live. Paint me blue from lack of air. Put nothing but blue filters on my photo. Don't look at photos of me. It's not worth the time.

     For the foreseeable future, everything I touch will be hard. Maybe I can be softer. Maybe not. God, just don't let me make it fucking worse. It's for everything I love, not for me.