To date the snorthog
has only been seen
late at night in the bedroom
disturbing me and my dreams
first he hogs the bedclothes
then snorts up a storm
while I lie awake
counting sheep
trying to keep warm
but before I become
a grumbly old grouch
there is yet one solution
have him sleep on the couch
A place that is supposed to make you feel safe.
A sanctuary, I guess you could call it,
And for most people, it is.
But not for me.
No, for me, it is a place where,
I feel trapped.
Not trapped as in I can’t leave,
Trapped, as in a place I can leave,
But for some reason, I can’t.
It is where all the worst parts of me can run free
My anxiety, sadness, and depression
My anxiety, that paces back and forth in front of me,
Worrying about something, I know is irrational to be worrying about.
My sadness, sitting in a ball in the corner of the room, crying,
About the things and the people that we miss and know we can’t get back.
And then there is my depression…
Lying cocooned under my blankets, feeling numb about the fact that we have lost, the motivation that we once had to get up, go out and interact with the people we love.
That we hold so close to our heart.
But here all of me is.
Trapped in my bedroom
again.
.
i could not leave'er
no
not
not
whilst her princess
in her night frock
rest'd 'gainst
thuh huge
vindowz
tick'lin mine think
cauze'n mine breathe'z
rapid
az thuh spring'z morn'nin
sun
paint'd hern
no
not i
,)
Bedroom Wall
Hidden in
the small space in
my bedroom wall are a
bit flared skirts (witches skirts only), fairy shoes, bottles of
elf arm hairs, alien dried poop, urine vials too, and
lutes of
egg whites rotting.
Glowing in her rich heart, hear it go bump,
As she dreams of him, in her throat, a soft lump.
As stars engage hopscotch, in misty, sparkling skies
A cold, barren room, gives birth to her warm, earthy sighs.
10/4/2024
I sleep in each day until *noon,
My *mum says I live on the moon,
If I think a day’s good *deed,
Is to *eye a Facebook feed,
Than to *peep outside of my room.
Darting eyes, a naked flame,
Expectations, yet unnamed,
Strewn across a bedroom floor,
In-between, red satin sheets,
Rekindled heat, yearns once more,
Excitement, reaches higher,
Static sets the night on fire.
Dark mischievous bedroom eyes
Are laden with lust and laden with lies.
They slowly cause my pulse to rise
And always do me hypnotize.
They exude passion’s lusty flame,
The flame that sears, the flame that maims,
While masking their sinful secretive lies,
Behind a seductive sexual prize.
Should I stay, or should I leave?
I muse while my heart rides on my sleeve.
Such eyes have caused the death of innocence.
And, as for love, they have no relevance.
So, I back away from those sinful eyes,
So laden with lust, so laden with lies,
Because bedroom eyes are pools too deep,
And always do dark secrets keep.
Twist and turn
Couldn’t sleep
It became one’s soul they couldn’t keep
A couple’s eye to eye look
That was all it took
The night became an interlude exercise
Form of passion
Romantic session
The moment
In heat
Unrest and can rest
Couple’s sleep
Good night
Her goodnight clothes send me an invitation that reads: come play with me
Oversized sleep tee leaves room for my palms to follow your skin
Fuzzy Shorts that hug all the right places my hands can't touch at once
Shorts that stop above the cheeks so I can see them smile at me
Grabbing thighs, pulling hips, getting drunk off your curves
Feeling you close hoping your skin reads my palms
Read between the lines and see how much my fingerprints miss you
Massaging your feet, curving your calves, hand full of thighs, too much booty too hold but I can't let go
Carving the stress from your back, pushing the pain from your shoulders
Molding peace into your temple
Bringing a softness from the strength of my hands
How does that feel
Cuddle me she says
I gladly wrap my legs and arms around you
I want to anaconda swallow you
Sorry if my body suffocates you
I can't help it, because it's needs your body to breathe
p.s. take your clothes off I want to be closer...
i remember your bedroom at your moms house,
Thin walls and black blankets.
A energy drink and my perfume resting on your side desk,
The journal you’d draw in,
And you’d draw me.
Your guitar sitting in the corner,
Red and glossy but always growing dust,
You played music on it and I was surprised at your talent.
A hot summer and fireworks at night,
We’d stay up late, till 5am laughing our lungs breathless.
The moments I swore I’d feel forever never lasted long,
But the sun only reminds me of the moon’s we shared.
Things went south like where you are,
And my mind spiraled into your lies.
Your smile I stared into for hours,
So pure and sweet,
Became a smile that was only fake.
These nights I spend alone now,
I cherish.
Without you I am free.
One bedroom for two seems old hat,
And some bat for the separate—
One far right meant for ‘she’,
And one far left for ‘he’,
Middling, if mood is made for that!
_________________________________
Happenings (Cameron Diaz, Bedroom Story) |09.12.2023| marriage, love
Christmas Tree in the bedroom this year
sugar cookies for my Sweets
supreme delight surprise for my curious taste buds
some old Christmas soul playing from another rare channel that i discovered
the stars are bright
the moon is fondly full
two whole weeks with nowhere to go
Christmas movies galore
AND AWAY WE GOOOOO!
we forget about time, work, bills, and the modern world
it will be there when we get back
she tells me to turn up the volume
i gladly oblige with no hesitation
the smiles are so obvious
the chocolate chip cookies are now ready
my aging stomach growls in delight despite
i turn off the old Christmas soul because the movie is getting good
my Sweets in her favorite robe and throw blanket and i in my man stuff
are all settled down in a vibe after smoothing out what was rough
no debris, no dirt, no ashes, and no dust
our binge watching on 11, Santa Claus will be chillin' eatin' cookies and other things with us
breathers
inbetweeners
restricted, impassable
threshold
worn down
worn out
closed off
knock knock
i don’t have the heart
to turn her away
life’s knocked her down
the hinges creak
deep breath
I’m open
I’m mom
Bedroom of bad dreams
Whereby so called lovers fight
Day and night on bed.
June 20th 2023
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