I am not Jessica Rabbit,
nor as erasable as a cartoon
We all wash out, eventually
My heroes loving villains
We all wash out
eventually
my intoxicating
blurred fantasy
I pull out my watercolours
to try to paint what I’m feeling
Vibrant red stained by brown
Bright yellow blemished by grey clouds
But the blue, isn’t blue enough
No matter how much i try
Should mix in my tears
Or breathe in a sigh ?
My colours comes to life
Dripping onto my fingertips
As my hands sob onto the canvas
Puddles start to ebb and flow
The red is shocked by electrifying oranges
And seemlessly the ocher dances
The emotions glide through the water
Rippling in ever corner
My paintbrush soaks up the shadows hidden in
The umbra of my nights
The ones with which I put up a fight
The vista of shades become a philharmonic conversation
A babble of acute sensations
Dribbles of passionate abstractions
Mirroring my great sollitude
They wash out into the pot
and merge into a muc of liquidifyed spleen,
Gunky disquietude ready to be pored out of me
As i stain the paper and myself too
I giggle because now I really am blue
These stains stick to me
And now you can see
The true colour of my melancholy
I wear the same shoes,
Every single freaking day,
They probably smell...
I want to sign up,
I talked to a recruiter,
I might just wash out...
Talking to old friends,
Is NOT a good idea,
Jojo was the worst...
I spent time in jail,
It was a pain in the ass,
I did get out though...
I have a few friends,
They probably are liars,
I have to move on...
The water is my happy place
as I sit at the edge of the beach
feeling the coldness of waves
letting my tears
wash out to other lands
hope someone else can feel my pain
the water is my happy place
where I can release all my stress
and feel some relief
Convinced I am
I'll never be me again
The one who created the pain
The one who had so much to gain
But lost out in the end
To a race against time
A figment of me
Just a pigment of hope
Lie down at night
No sleep to make up
I wander about
Through today's events
I worry about tomorrows as well
There is no real balance
When I am always off center
My mind never shuts down
I Whisper I can't do this anymore
Can't continue to live in a past unforgiven
I am stuck here in the void
Can't trust myself to let my guard down
Feel only alone is how I will live out this life
Scroll through the pictures on facebook dating
All so many choices but none ever get back
Am I just a lost cause
Confined to all I fear
It's a stain that won't wash out
Am I really that unlovable
Is the cover just to torn to turn the page
So much unsuriness so little dedication
To branch out away from past thoughts
It's alarming and endangering
Have I become that lost soul
Only time knows
All the secrets I hide.
Do you remember the last time you looked at me?
Did you know then, that it would be the last?
There’s still space for your breath here
In my lungs
There’s still shelter here
Within my ribs
There’s still the hollow ache
Only you could soothe
Where your bones used to slot into place
Do you remember the last time you said you were mine?
Did you know then that you would lie?
There’s still an extra toothbrush in my bathroom
And a cup that molded around your touch in my kitchen
And a controller that sits next to the console collecting dust
And I cling to the extra pillow you bought from your room
When mine just didn’t do the job
Do you remember the nights we shared here?
There’s a stain on my pants I refuse to wash out
And I press on it sometimes
Drive my fingers into the fabric as I wear it
Bruise my skin with force of it
Just to mimic your touch
Did you know then they didn’t mean a thing?
And yet, if you walked in tonight I wouldn’t ask where you’ve been
I’d only ask if you’re staying
chandeliers hung by dead feathers
cannon balls of years when time hated fairly
left over promises i'm not friends with
getting lept out
hanging death
to find a friend
running away
marrying the wash out
battling for empty
filling up the old crimes
inside my healing head
to destroy their evidence
useless when its good
too ugly for views
prisons too important
for me, the left overs
i was the addiction
now another contraception
hailing ghosts
tangled in timecards
under hung
and still voting
to take my spots
I would pack my dogs into the car
It might take ten minutes to get the puppy in
He is stronger than both of us
And he despises the car
If there is extra time I would take a few canvases,
A twenty-four pack of acrylic paints, ten paint brushes,
Three or four bowls – to feed the dogs and to wash out the brushes
I would also take cozy blankets and pillows
Our dogs like to be comfortable
A fifty-pound bag of dog food would go up front
My purse, my husband’s wallet, and a can of pork and beans.
The kind with a pop tab; I love beans.
r
r(*)a
r(*)a(*)i
r(*)a(*)i(*)n
r(*)a(*)i(*)n(*)d
r(*)a(*)i(*)n(*)d(*)r
r(*)a(*)i(*)n(*)d(*)r(*)o
r(*)a(*)i(*)n(*)d(*)r(*)o(*)p
r(*)a(*)i(*)n(*)d(*)r(*)o(*)p(*)s
rain(*)drops(*)rain(*)drops(*)rain(*)drops
(*)raindropsraindropsraindropsraindropsraindrops(*)
(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)WASH OUT(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)
It would be fine indeed,
if we could wash out the mind
each morning.
Thoughts get stale,
the mind like an air deprived swamp,
begins to stink,
and the only way
to go out into the world anew
is in the same way
our souls came into it.
It is wise to swill and pour,
flush and evacuate,
drain and empty,
tip and spill,
ejecting all that collected piss
we’ve been carrying around,
for so many yesterday -
that overfull pot
we call our feelings.
turn on the hot water faucet let it run
add the cold water faucet for a warm one
make sure the bath mat is down so no slipping
get nude it's a shower like skinny dipping
wet wet get drenched and soaked
lather up with that bar of soap
wash here and there everywhere
don't forget shampoo your hair
pour it on and rub it in
wash that hair thick or thin
let the shower wash out the soap
rinse your body and you are dope
big fluffy cotton towel
dry your self and how
now that you are new and clean
put your robe on before your seen
Bring on the rain
I want to again
To wash out this burning Haze
I feel it a drift in my nights distance Seas
Pounding a flight through my heart
A Temple of soul
Pulsing tight to the back of my eyes
I think of that little face you know
The wood grain talking to me again
Or that shadowing whispering things
I do not like to know
Walking toward me in silent halls
It says things I don’t want to hear
I just want the pain again…
This brings out the things insane
I want to wash these ruined hands
Of theses peculiar stains
I want to scrub my face my mind
As my void expires
In nights a drift, hues of pure vermilion
I need it again
Bring on the rain
Bring on the insane
Watching it drift in crowded rooms
But I am silent
Alone feeling this pain
again & again
Feels like at home
A coming doom
So bring on the rain!
The pole is slick
there's a smell emanating from the toilets
body odor and a thick male musk in the smoky air.
I'm not here to gawp at the dancer
just bar tend.
The floor is sticky, the glasses dirty,
the canned music sleazy.
It's not a classy joint.
Nobody tips, not many drink,
the head of the skinny manager
materializes from around a drape.
The head wants me to clean off the tables.
I get my coat
walk out into the clean snow,
wash-out the muck behind my eyes
with handwipes.
You never knocked before entering into my heart,
but when you had left, I had heard a breaking sound!
Nowhere, but in my memories,
our stories will be ever found.
I had walked a long way,
but the road was round,
and I am here again trying to find myself all around.
Cheers to the day,
when I had wished to make you mine.
Though you had never said,
but I had made you mine.
Still, on those paths,
our love days will be ever found.
Which you had left before,
but I am still roaming here all around.
I couldn't even wash out those
untouched touches of you,
that you had poured all over me
your verses through.
I had stopped listening to those songs,
which lyrics had led me to you.
I had tried to live in reality,
but memories always bring back you.
purple tulips, the color of her toddler dress.
the leafy stems, her eyes.
the baby-blond hair, mom combs into a crest,
the sea will satisfy.
blond slowly turns brunette, tumbles
from Rapunzel’s tower, then gets shorn.
green waters, a dry oasis —
cerulean blue boundary.
open sesame with artificial drops.
wrinkle-protected eyes.
ears can’t hear what others say.
deaf and blindness make her appear wise.
guttural sounds - huh, eh, hmm.
smiles and nods as the tongues of the young,
like trumpets in her ear, elucidate their troubles.
she’s ironed out hers. they still exist.
still, she knows the outcome.
sediment of the sea shelled out to the deep.
sand sifts through her fingers.
sandcastles wash out, but i see
children carrying shovels and pails.
some have leafy-stem eyes and baby-blond hair.
3/6/2021
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