Hair

How I came to miss something that wasn't there -
Less style, more I don't care.
Either way, it's always all about hair:
A cause most people truly share.

While many pretend not to care
(Or bitch and moan it isn't fair)
How stubble grew, when and where -
Even sometimes when they are bare!

So many names for how to wear:
Long and tousled, flowing like a Mare
Short and spiky, with much Flair.
But when tossed, is lighter than air;
Valley girl anger after scathing stare.

Oiled glistening locks that pair
Nicely with bronzed chest hair,
Still nuzzled softly, like a bear:
Even men get in on its wear,
Long or shorn, gone after a dare.

Either way, it's always all about hair:
A cause most people truly share.

Pumpkin Pies

Call me pumpkin pies /
'cause I see tha truth in yo eyez /
You in love with my thunda thighs.

 ----

Oh my little yellow squash /
Pet names are all complete hogwash /
It doesn't matter what you say /
so much as being said in a loving way:

I could call you kitten pops /
Or Pimp-Daddy On-the-Rocks /
It doesn't really matter what /
only that we both agree /
so that it's both of us in harmony /

So if you are plain bored /
by the cuteness of gourds /
I will just have to change my words /
until I find a line we can both afford.

Falling Leaves

Falling Leaves

Friends drop like falling leaves,
whether from their own insecurities
or work-forced travel overseas.
Beginning t feel like I can't see
the forest for the trees,
my bark peeling
because I try too hard to please.

But realizing, just maybe,
the rot is all around me.
Pushing it's way in -
Pastors talk of hell and sin;
the demons, they surround you,
don't let them in.
When unwanted thoughts rankle,
then fester like disease,
let them blow away like falling leaves.

With practice, you can gain the ease
for letting go of noncommittal friends,
of goodbye, sadness, and loose ends.
Those with self-image so distorted,
that your friendship must quickly be aborted
for fear their selfishness will take root in you;
You've sen how easily it could become true.
That's backwards growth you don't want,
Prune those thoughts needing to be shrunk.

Molded Love

Much as the cheese
we bought together
has molded in the fridge

over time so too
 has our romance
withered and died

It is a cold, forgotten
thing at the back
corner of a fridge

The small part
that still lives there
acquiring a bluish tinge

a visual reminder
of a toxic coupling
no longer tasted safely

you can no longer eat
you can no longer breathe
in fear of what
it might do to you.

Tub Time

I do my best thinking in the bath

getting in before the water

and sitting there, chilled

until the water creeps up

inch by inch, warming my body.

Sometimes I let the shower

pour water down on me from above

like a calming rainfall;

bringing cleansing thoughts
in addition to hot flecks of water.

Once the water has reached its limits,

past the tape I’ve placed over
the drain to stretch those bounds,

I can relax and think.

I watch the water play over my body,

causing little ripples in reflections of the tub,

the faucet, the drain spout,

using my hands to block or aid 

my vision of myself.

Coffee Filter

I drink my coffee through a straw,
the conduit acting as a filter
to draw away any bitterness;
Any teeth staining substance.

A way to let the hot liquid slip
straight down my throat:
a bitter pill made less
difficult to swallow.

Much like I did with you,
using lust as a conduit
to safeguard my feelings
until I had enough distance
to realize what you were.

A bitter substance
better left untasted,
no matter the caffeine rush
you promised to give.

It wasn't worth the risk
of tasting you
craving you
becoming addicted to you
for a simple jolt to start each day.

But I did it anyway.

Down to the Quick

I bite my nails, 

down to the quick

because at least that way

I know I've reached 

my limit.

Pain when my fingers clench;

blood when I make a fist.

A tiny bit of masochism 

no one sees

beause they can't look past

a filthy habit.

And it is both,

but it is so much more-

A sweet release, 

an oral fixation, 

and a way to make yourself feel something.

Even if that feeling is one of pain.