Jealousy

“I love you”
means so little
when I see you
kissing him.

So I am a jealous f*ck. Deal. My wife knew this and yet she still pushes her bounds. She also knows that if I think she wants something bad enough I will let her have it, without exception. She has been dating (my best friend) and I said I was okay with it. I’m not. He is also the only “friend” she goes out with so I feel bad telling her she has to be a shut-in like me. I can’t take away her excursions, but I have to find a way to tell her I want no intimacy between them, but how can I do that when there is no intimacy between her and I (my fault not hers)? It is all so convoluted.

Why can’t I be “normal”?

Advice would be great.

Do I Really Have To Say It

Snorting this line,
as the particles
fly up the straw
and into my nostrils,
I find myself reeling,
as expected, and thinking of you …

I remember the times
I ate so much acid
that you would say a little prayer
(thought I didn’t know, didn’t you,
well I did, every time).
And then you would
make it rain white powder
that shared your name.
And, Molly, when we would
find that perfect balance
of trippin’ balls and rubbin’ walls,
time would stop.
with your skin against mine.

But as the initial rush dies
you leave my headspace,
there’s no room for you there anymore
because right about NOW
is when the demons attack
and they come from everywhere
wearing the face
of no one and everyone,
visually fucking me up
like I , once again,
filled my mouth with gel caps.
And the auditory assault
from some of the visions
and from nowhere
are almost enough
to make my ears bleed.

And I start crying.
And I realize
I haven’t bumped that line yet
and all this shit
is just who I am now
because … because …

The Introduction Of The New Me

Over the last seven years my life has changed dramatically. I got married to the love of my life and life itself seemed wonderful. We had a blissful honeymoon and I thought that was how the entirety of my life would go (I believe she did as well). We were both disappointed.

My mental illnesses got worse and worse. I became more and more susceptible to the stress around me. Jobs started lasting less and less time (I had never lasted long at a job because I got bored or my anger got the best of me, or I had the rare anxiety attack and I never went back because I was embarrassed). I spent quite a bit of time in and out of the hospital because of the anxiety attacks that were coming on weekly or sometimes even more frequently than that.

I lost my last job because I had too much time away due to the inability to handle stress and determined that school was my best bet. I would change majors from Culinary Arts to something less stressful. Instead, while living with my in-laws I had my breakdown.

Over the next two months I degraded so fast that neither my wife nor I knew what was going on. She became cold and I became distant. Everyone was out to get me and I could not leave my desk chair other than to go outside to the comfort of my secluded balcony to smoke. It was obvious that I needed help so, with my wife’s help, I got it.

To make a long story short as I have gone over most of this before, I eventually found the psychiatrist I am with now. I eventually found the right mix of medications and I eventually started to feel normal.

I wanted out of the house. I want out of my desk chair. I started to do more around the house. I started spending time with my daughter. I started being a somewhat normal human being.

Last week I decided that it was time for me to go back to work. Due to child support from my first marriage, I need to make a certain amount just to bring in what I am bringing in now with my disability and the jobs that disability will find for you are a joke.

So I am job hunting. I haven’t worked since 2007. I am a published writer so I use that as my work experience for the last several years, but a lot of employers don’t look kindly on that. I will find a job. I will contribute to my household. I will be a active member of society. I will introduce the world to the new me.

The Many, The Downcast, The Children

(The Few, The Proud, The Marines)

In the land of the free and the home of the brave
sat a young man locked in his room so full of hate.

He wanted to know how anything could ever be okay
ever since his daddy died and his momma flaked.

It used to be games of planes, trains, trucks and guns,
but then his daddy left to play with sand, fleas and bombs.

His momma used to say, “Daddy’s havin’ so much fun”
when in reality it was momma’s fun that had just begun.

There came a nonstop barrage of new men
and then he was locked up in his room again

hearin’ all those moans, screams and cries
knowin’ then that his momma’s words were lies.

When the day finally came, they told him daddy died
and reality finally became everything he had denied.

Now, years later, with a new man on the throne
he found that pistol daddy had made his own.

Mamma never noticed a single day in his life
and new daddy barely noticed the loss of his wife.

Take My Tongue For A Ride

I wonder what
it would be like
to wander over
every inch of you
with first my eyes,
then my hands
and then with the
tip of my tongue.

Gradually tracing
the lines and curves
that your body
has to offer,

a roller coaster
of flesh
that takes
every part of me
for a wild ride
that I have trouble
staying in my seat for

as I want to experience
every lift, drop
and screw.

Me

If I had to choose one side of me for you to see it would not be the ugly side of me; the side of me that most of the world does see, but for you to see me as me would please me and you would see a me that is more than what the world sees, you would see a caring, loving me that I save for you and me if there could be a you and me.