Poetry from ‘The Feathered Sleep
Tag: loss
Black book
from TheFeatheredSleep
Apparently
men can gather bed notches and
this elevates them socially
whilst women of the same history
are sluts plain and simple
therefore
I am a whore
not because you tell me so
or for any notches or black books
but for the raspy feather in my chest
when it tickles
I gather up my fancy
and I imagine
all the rides I’ve taken
which is as far as I go today
given my propensity for not coming back
but there was a time
I let four boys into my room
not all at once or even
in the same afternoon
they were as different as
the rules for men and women
one I found ugly and angular
his penis was a sharp hungry thing
that burned the desire out of me
another was vain and glorious
a cheshire cat apt to lap his own cream
his was large and…
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I’m sorry, but we need to talk about suicide…
From Greece With Love
Earlier this week I found out someone who I had grown up with but had lost touch many years ago had taken his own life. Yesterday was the 10 year anniversary of an amazing human, someone who taught me more than they will ever know, taking their life. In the summer of 2015 I lost one of my dearest and best friends, in the same way, and she will never know that my life will never be the same without her.
This is a subject I have always planned to write about, because as many people who have followed my writing over the years will know, putting some words down and emptying the thoughts in my brain is a kind of personal therapy for me. But on this subject, I have always refrained as I know how deeply and how directly it affects so many of my loved ones.
However…
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Time Has Meaning
from Joyfully Stated
Around the time I begin this draft, I’d be bout ready to go to work. I’d have my face and hair done and as I’d close my laptop, I’d say to my kids or my pets, “I hate this time of day.” I’d have panicky feelings about leaving. Then I’d have panicky feelings about driving. Then I’d get there and the panic would stop, cause focused.
Today is different because my hair is in one of those ponytails where only the part up to the band has been brushed smooth. I wear my Pusheen tee and sweats, no makeup.
Moo turned to me a few minutes ago and asked, “Are you happy you don’t hafta hate this time of day now?”
“Yes. Am happy, thanks.”
*eats pickle*
I plan to be pickle-eatin, tee-shirt wearin for several weeks, and then I’ll see what’s out there to focus on. I gave my two-week’s…
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Art by Rob Goldstein 