mollasas

It makes me want to burst into fire

beaucoupdemots — Fri, 03 Dec 2010 01:26:48 +0000

It makes me want to burst into fire

I am filled overflowing stuffed

cramped like dried spiders curled into dust

too dark for darkness

I can’t see the after–

and there is no before

I am erased

beaucoupdemots — Thu, 11 Mar 2010 18:30:40 +0000

Inadequate.

I am inadequate.

I speak not. I understand not.

Foolish, with closed eyes:

I see not.

This is blindness.

A stumbling, black blindness.

Hits like granite, hard and glinting.

Stifles like tar, smell of sick bad eggs of sulfur.

Bubbles up in the lymphnodes of lungs,

so cancerous, so deadly.

Stretches the skin to taffy spinners,

winds the hair on spools of dread.

Tears me all apart and leaves me naked.

Embarrassed, beet red blush splotches on the bone,

inadequate.

Interminable

beaucoupdemots — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 01:58:23 +0000

I hate my mother. Like some poor inbred twat she twitters on about forgone mistakes and faults. She purses her lips and places her swollen hands on love-handle hips sagging from years of ill-spent hours looking down from her high horse. She has a mean glint in her eye, the kind that twinkles in the iris of sadistic school yard bullies and future serial killers, a glint that suggests malice and a sickening desire for the eminent downfalls of others. She sneers condescendingly at misguided attempts to calm her fervor, wags her finger at every foolish action, recording it in a timetable for future humiliation. She is blind, deaf, and dumb. Hears only what she pleases, sees only things that displease her, and says only what will cut the deepest. She plucks her feathers and places them daintily in a powder box. She is careful withe her complexion applying the roughest of gravels and coldest of steels. She is stone. She is clever, conniving, like Eve enchanted by a snake, you fall for her traps. iron jaws snapping at your ankles, clanging shut and cutting through bone and skin and muscle. All the while she dusts her self with the dried remains of victims past, she simply sparkles in the drab colors of death. She is my mother, and I hate her.

My life is not going in a happy way

beaucoupdemots — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 17:25:26 +0000

Always now I have a tight feeling in my chest and there is a cloud hanging over my head. My life is full of fires, I scramble about trying to put them all out, but I always run out of time or energy and the fire burns up everything. And when it is all gone what am I left but a pile of ashes and my regrets. I awaken in the night sweating, I am wasting my time sleeping, I could be working, I could be doing something. Always the feeling of anxiety knawing at my gut, worse than hunger pains. Always almost on the verge of tears. Counting my failings as the march by, one by one, steadily growing in rank. I check the clock twelve times in five minutes. When will I be done with this? When can I move on to the next trainwreck, try to salvage something. When I close my eyes I see faceless heads with hands reaching out to me. Give me, give me. I want your money. I want your clothes. I want your work. I want your face. Give me… I feel their hands pressing on me. They want so much, hundreds of them. Grabbing at me with grubby fingers. Stinking like rotten meat. Or if not the hands, the rising water. At my chin, at my eyes, over my head. Day or night, there is no rest, no respite. Always working, always struggling, always haggard. My chest is tight as ever. I feel old.

Poor, poor dog.

beaucoupdemots — Sun, 11 Oct 2009 02:15:08 +0000

Dog can’t breath right.

Dog aches and moans and heaves

Dog can’t bend his legs.

Needs to be carried up and down stairs

Dog has seizures.

Kicks and flails, mouth foams and snaps.

Dog makes me sad.

Pees in the house

Outside, rests in secluded corner, preparing.

Dog needs to die.

I love dog, but dog is in pain.

Dog is old and ready.

Dog hangs on, who knows why?

Dog suffers, there is no suffering after death.

Dog needs peace.

Peace is in death.

Tread carefully on thin ice

beaucoupdemots — Wed, 07 Oct 2009 00:07:37 +0000

Things are still rolling

Smoking barrels still smoking

and fires still stoking

Tempers flare and flash

Disgruntled voices of the young and rash

Hold strong hold strong

Let your passion simmer

Feed it with anger lest it grow dimmer

The quicker it dies

the sooner you’ll fry

Hold strong hold strong

Keep your head down

and hide your frown

Keep trudging along

You know the truth, you know they’re wrong

Hold strong hold strong

It won’t be long

Things are still rolling

And your strength is growing.

It’s been a while.

beaucoupdemots — Tue, 06 Oct 2009 23:56:38 +0000

It’s been a while old friend of mine

It’s been many months since I had time,

to sit and chat and have a drink,

of iced tap water from your sink.

I won’t dilly or dally on make up excuses

but I think you should know that my reasons aren’t ruses.

I’ve had a great many things to do

Busy by day, and by night too.

It’s hard to find time,

just to unwind

so I hope you’ll forgive and maybe forget

I do so regret

That I haven’t stopped bye

even for that pie

that you baked for me

(which was very nice and by the way it was delicious)

I’m so so sorry

Oh look at the clock

I’d better be off.

It was nice seeing you

Now I bid you adieu.

Dear Mom and Dad,

beaucoupdemots — Fri, 31 Jul 2009 23:45:17 +0000

I’m seventeen and a half and I think it’s time you stop babying me. I don’t mean babying in the sense that you coddle and spoil me, heaven knows you have never favored me, even in the slightest. What you do is, in my opinion, far worse. You second guess me. Parents guide and teach their children and that is fine, up to a certain point. When I was five you would always check to make sure I was doing something right such as tying my shoes or brushing my teeth; the problem is that you still do this. When I’m driving, when I’m cooking, when I’m searching a fact on Google. Your ever watchful loving gaze has become a hawklike stare that follows me everywhere, just waiting for a mistake and then you can pounce and gloat about how I was wrong. Believe it or not I know to check the intersection before I make a turn, I was taught so in the $400 Driver’s Ed class that I received an A+ in. I know how to make Mac & Cheese, I’ve made it a hundred times and I don’t need you hovering over me correcting everything I do. And of course I know how to search things on Google, I’m more efficient at using the computer than you, mom, who breaks down in tears when you can’t figure out how to work the printer. Both of you seem to think I am a faulty human being who needs constant surveillance, who cant manage the simples of tasks without help. I’m trying to tell you I’m not! I know what I’m doing so stop questioning everything I do and undermining me with your snide remarks about how I stir noodles or how I phrase my words in a search engine. It’s annoying as hell and completely unnecessary. I’m nearly an adult and I’d like to be treated so. I’m not a little girl anymore. I know how to function in the world without you. You’re risking driving me away with your insensitive actions. If you don’t watch it I’ll prove how self sufficient I am by moving away and never speaking to you again. It’s a fine line between parenting and overbearing bitch.

Grumpy, aggitated, and mad at you,

your daughter.

I’m Fucking Mad

beaucoupdemots — Sun, 26 Jul 2009 23:03:30 +0000

I’m angry. I’m enraged. I’m ready to tear the entrails from a baby and set them on fire. I’m so sick of being lied too, of having people play around with my emotions, of people getting my hopes up only to crush them. I’m tired of people telling me one thing and meaning another. Say what you mean and mean what you say. It’s ridiculous, how people put hidden meaning in their words and just expect you to figure it out. Or how they expect you to know what they’re thinking. A person say’s “I had pizza for dinner” and I’m supposed to understand from that that she had a very upsetting day, her boss yelled at her, the doctor gave her bad news, her boyfriend isn’t considerate, her diet is failing, her shoes hurt her feet, she hasn’t gone to church in three months, her brother was arrested, her father doesn’t have a retirement plan, she lost her atm card, and she doesn’t know how to activate the new one. How am I supposed to figure all that out from “I had pizza for dinner.” ? I’m not a psychic and I’m terrible at inferring deep meanings in ordinary chit chat, if you want to talk to me you have to actually talk to me and not skirt around the subject with meaningless pleasantries.

Adding to this mess of emotions is the fact that I was supposed to take several trips this summer only to have the plans come crashing down around my ears. I was planning to travel to Canada with my mother, she even had me look up flights and hotels, only to turn around and say she doesn’t feel up to it. The day before she was psyched for the trip. What the fucking hell! The same thing happened with a trip to New York that was planned for later this week. It was short notice, but she wanted to go, it was here idea. Now she has once again pulled the plug on the travel plans. It’s very disappointing and I’m extremely upset. All my friends have gone on long exciting trips out of the country. Four have gone to France, one to Ghana, one to South Africa, one to Cambodia, one to Germany, and one to Mexico. I’ve gone to Michigan. I guess I feel it’s unfair that my friends get to travel the world and I am stuck at home in fucking Indiana. It’s ironic too as all these people would be content to rot in Indiana for forever and I can’t wait to get out. I want to be somebody and to live in someplace that’s actually someplace, not hole in the ground midwest nowheresville. I had big plans for this summer and it’s been one anticlimactic letdown after another. All in all I’m feeling rather depressed. And lonely, but that’s a whole ‘nother can of worms.

Jeopardy: What the hell?

beaucoupdemots — Wed, 22 Jul 2009 00:13:22 +0000

I just tuned in for the final question of Jeopardy. I just got back from a trip and hadn’t caught the beginning of the show but was just in time for the end, and what a surprise it was. The category was Books Based on History, the clue something akin to: Follow the Drinking Gourd is based around this group of stars that includes to North Star. One contestant answered the Pleiades, which is wrong. The other two answered the Big Dipper, which Alex said was the correct answer, this however is wrong! The Big Dipper does not contain the north star, it’s the Little Dipper! However I think it’s the clue that is at fault here. The Drinking Gourd refers to the Big Dipper, but that constellation does not contain the North Star, Polaris. I’ve noticed recently that Jeopardy has had really stupid and confusing final questions lately. I think it’s part of the general decline in quality game shows. The contestants on Wheel of Fortune also seem to be getting dumber by the moment. The other night a woman asked to buy a letter P and the host said “You can only buy bowels, not consonants”. She then proceeded to request the purchase of a T. People are dumb.