Her and Me

Originally published on the Literati Mafia

I can’t be
Who you want me to be
I am not her
I am only me

I am not docile
Can’t live on my knees
Can’t humble myself
Can’t beg pretty please

Been slapped in the face
Learned not to be weak
Don’t lean on anyone
Stand alone on my feet

Can’t hold on to trust
Can’t give you my all
Shaped by my past
I always look for the fall

I’ve tried to be
Who you need me to be
Can’t hold on to her—
That other me

She feels too little
She feels too weak
She feels too needy
Just too fucking meek

Not worthy of love
Not worthy of respect
A whiny, scared baby
You always have to protect

Can you love
All that is me
Just take me as I am—
Or walk away free

Because….

I can’t be
Who you want me to be
I am not the others
I am only me

Photo via Pixabay

Unwind

Originally published on the Literati Mafia

I’m tired, so very tired
of love, of so-called life
of all the countless heartaches
and years of endless strife

can’t undo what been done
too late to re-roll the dice
time to pay the penurious piper
but can’t afford the price

the velvet black void beckons
sweetly calls my secret name
offering silence I can rest in
tranquil and godless, free of pain

an endless, empty nothing
to pillow my weary mind
hopes and dreams fizzle out
as I blissfully, beautifully unwind

 

Photo via Pixabay

All At Once

All At Once video
Performed by: The Airborne Toxic Event
Writer(s): Mikel Frans Jollett

I Look Down

Originally published on the Literati Mafia

From my window
I look down, look down
At the iniquitous world spread out below me.
I look down, look down
I see the curst world, but it doesn’t see me.

From my room
I look down, look down
At the caliginous night steeped in midnight tea.
I look down, look down
I see the leaden darkness, but it doesn’t see me.

From my prison
I look down, look down
At a haunting of ghosts, ghouls, and monstrous afreets.
I look down, look down
I see all things vile and evil . . . and pray they don’t see me.

© Kaddie Tucker 2018

Photo via iStock

Pay The Fiddler

Marlena wouldn’t have opened her door to just any man, a girl had to be careful after all. But when she’d parted the curtains a smidge and got a gander of the pretty man standing on the stoop, she about tripped over her own feet getting to the door and flinging it open.

“Well, hello there,” she said, pasting on a saucy grin. “What can I do for you?”

Light bugs and moths danced around the porch light, throwing flitting shadows over a scarred but handsome face. He quirked a black eyebrow. “Marlena Bledsoe?”

“The one and only.” Must’ve been asking about me down at Rudy’s. She tucked a bleached-blonde curl behind her ear, cocked a hip.

“It’s time to pay.”

The smile slid from Marlena’s face. Her belly knotted up. “Huh?” But she knew…

“Hassie sent me.”

“Who’re you?” And she knew that too.

“Cicero.” His golden eyes met hers. “Here’s what you’re going to do…” Continue reading “Pay The Fiddler”

Hello Cruel World

Hello Cruel World video

Performed by: Gretchen Peters

Writer(s): Gretchen Peters

E1152950-ADD4-45F3-A6D6-8B842E4A700A

Confirmation

She’s not good enough
Someone told her so
Dripped poison in her ear
A long time ago

The mirror confirms
Shows dull frizzy hair
A nose too long
Ugly body when bare

The paper confirms
When she scrawls with pen
Mediocre writing
No contest it’d win

The past confirms
No good deeds were done
No sacrifices made
No battles won

The present confirms
A dull empty life
No one’s darling
No one’s wife

The future confirms
What she already knows
Nothing will change
Down that long dark road

Photo via Pixabay

Sleeping Dogs

Stretched out like a sorrowful slithering snake
No warm sun, no cool moon to light its way
Dank and dismal, ceiling scaly with stunted stars
Purgatory’s hallway, colored tear-stained gray

Barred doors line its bowed-in, petrous walls
Fashioned from lies and anger, jealousy and greed
Keys without locks, and locks without keys
Hiding haunted hearts that eternally bleed

Cold bricks weep night sweats, whiskey, and coke
Discordant screams slide underneath sallow doors
Unanswered prayers seep through crumbling cracks
Curdle into a slippery stigmata upon the frigid floor

Don’t break the painted-over seal, don’t peer inside
Don’t look upon fractured faces hiding hurts and slights
Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to
Don’t offer false salvation…let sleeping dogs lie.

Photo via iStock

Like A Rock

Like A Rock video

Performed by: Bob Seger and The Silver Bullet Band

Writer(s): Bob Seger

5E5BF37C-3A4A-42C7-BF08-752A96F5A77D

Death Becomes Her

Death becomes her…
Smoothed the seams that lined a tired face
Erased the anger from eyes of green flint
Hushed the blush that colored cold cheeks
Purged the pain from a heart, empty and spent

Death becomes her…
Hollow hope packed its overstuffed bags
Romantic ruminations stepped out the door
Borrowed tomorrows went on vacation
And now sleeps serenely beneath sandy shores

 

photo via Pixabay