Waiting Room

Filth.

Disgusting diseased drama queens, crooks and junkies…

Little blonde girl blue with the blue eyes in the blue Nike shoes, crying and reading “The Graveyard Book”.

Crying, coughing, sneezing, vomit, regurgitated regret, no saviors and no time, the system swallowing up everyone’s last dime.

People have lost, lost their way, stuck in the cave of misplaced luck, and I am so angry at being exposed to

FILTH.

Triggered-

Like an alcoholic pox hemorrhage, poison eating away at the veins.

A violent riot explodes under the skin, knuckles ashen white from repressing that which would hang me.

And I itch fire, drowning in the demonic dirt on the rocks that drains from my pores,

And I am stuck, stuck, stuck with the problem and I am holding on to my last shot of hope, crawling on the gravel below sunrise.

Rotating cosmic dirt ball, cannon ball firing from my arteries, through my cowering walled in heart, beating against, pulsating against, and fighting fighting skin. Itching to get out, I need some

Peace and quiet…

That’s not a playful transformation of the face, I don’t mean to, but momentarily I hate your guts.  Don’t eye me, please don’t look, the scars on my mind, the scars on my knuckles, the cigarette burns on my arms are looking for a reason to reopen hurt. And that’s not me, not me, not anymore, so keep your summer days and don’t ask, don’t ask, and don’t put your hand on my shoulder.

Momentarily kindness burns like myriad sun spot drops of acid in the iris, blinding. There is something caged, decaying underneath the ribs, that is aching for release, to get away from this scar garden place, away from the multitude of defeated faces, the smell of urine and sick.

I would gladly snap my own neck instead of having to walk through your disrespectful ill-mannered group,  head down hoping, hoping, you are not dumb enough to run your mouth, not now, not today, not when there is so much of everything,  everything,  pulling, pulled into me. Control ebbing…

leached from my being even while I pray to Mother for strength…

“Hail Mother full of grace, show me mercy, please, please don’t let me break. Please, please make them all just go away. Even with my eyes closed I can hear them breathe, their breath attempting to take over mine, infiltrating my lungs, Poisoning my blood…

STOP!

Concentrate, focus, control… they are just people, not snakes, not demons, not masterminds, breathe, breathe, breathe, and focus on a specific object. What’s the color? Is there a pattern? That’s right me, remember to breathe, is there a texture? What do you believes its purpose is?  Just focus , listen to your breathing, in slow, out slow…”

and then, shaking, it was time to leave.

Now it’s almost yesterday, and I need sleep…