let it out
pain isn't pretty,
when the phone rings with bad news, there is no beautiful anymore,
you cry until your face is red and blotchy,
dishes go unwashed, trash litters the floor,
you've worn the same shirt the entire week, and your hair needs a proper wash,
yet you stay in bed, hoping this is all a bad dream, it's not
sometimes tragedy is unavoidable, and it's ugly,
and that's okay,
grief isn't always funeral, flowers, then you part your ways,
it can stick like molasses,
because something, someone isn't there anymore,
so don't avoid the inevitable, let it out
cry tears until there aren't any left,
until snot dribbles from your nose, your eyes feel like the desert, and your cheeks look like they got a bad sunburn,
cry those ugly tears,
-it's not pretty, but you're surviving
oh, this is NOT a ‘what you see in the mirror’ challenge?!
shall i compare thee,
to a crowded bus?
with tired eyes,
and shopping bags,
and dripping umbrellas,
upon the muddy plastic flooring.
and clink-clanking joints,
protesting the unevenness of the road.
should i compare you,
to a leftover fruit?
a month-old durian,
still in plastic tray,
no one dares to take the thing out.
an overripe banana,
forgotten in a bag during,
the hot august.
the moldy strawberries,
that hint of summer grass, growing,
on brown earth.
may i compare you to a math lesson?
with thought out plans,
that don’t excite,
a trashy sort of art, it is, algebra.
you never get what you are supposed to,
by mis- calculation,
or the fact that ,
there never was a true answer.
to call it goobldygoop,
sounds like sterotyping.
and i dont want that.
might i compare you to,
an ill- prepared box of instant noodles?
not nourishing, not appetizing,
a shame, a failure,
you couldn’t even do that right!
you couldn’t even do that right!
would it surprise you to hear me compare,
you to a three-legged turtle?
soon to lose another,
as the kids show no mercy ,
at the petting zoo.
in brown water, swim.
do i have to point out the resemblance,
uncanny even, errie,
between you and Donald Trump’s hairpiece?
same texture, or so i imagine,
same usage, same color,
same contribution to general appearance.
must it be said, spelled out,
that you are as exciting to be around,
as a 50′s sex-ed film,
seen not for sarcasem, but for education?
or perhaps an 8-hr documentary,
need i mention the similarities,
and Scott Bakula,
who sets the gold standard,
for bad acting as a Star-Trek captain,
even besting Shatner!
or perhaps your talent, is akin to,
the abominable rod stewart ,
who will not be capitalized,
out of respect to the fallen heroes.
ought we discuss the equivalency,
between you and any award ceremony,
celebrating something awful;
the daytime Emmies,
all those cameras, pointing at hollowness?
and some kind of 5$ trophy.
it’s just you.
oh, would that you let me share,
how i think you are,
as close to a visual representation ,
of the emotion called loathing,
as any other thing.
you awful, awful thing.
i will just heapsome adjectives now,
for your enlightenment,
they best illustrate,
my objective thoughts towards you:
there are many more, but you would have gotten the gist, if you were someone else.
but you are not.
I look in the water
A pretty princess
But my mind
Ripples the water
Causing everything to look less and less than I wish I were
Times I wish I were her
My wings are becoming numb
Too high in the sky
Running away from my problems
Living in my head
Living in a fantasy
Music dancing demons
Stuck there, tapping their tiny feet
Playing the brain’s games
we are left
have you ever reached out
when you’re drunk
unsure if the invitation
to initiate contact
was a dream a farce or a random text
that wasn’t meant
for you to actually send
and do people want
after what we’ve been through
left on read
a ruse a fallacy a year of disillusion
and after a year of disease
are people wrapping up emotion
towards those they haven’t seen
is such an unbeautiful thing
Fights over skin,
Fights over knowledge,
Those who don't respect.
Taking from others to feed greed,
Breaking spirits to throw away jealousy,
Expecting to see your ideas respected and praised, when yet you don't praise others.
And the abandonment of a house once grand,
The torture of a dog just because they ran,
Those who wish to escape,
The world which we know,
Humans who grow thin,
Wars that are fought within,
Those who let their children sit on a screen for years,
Those who let them bike on a main road without safety,
The world at its end,
None show beauty,
Because they are each truly ugly.
A hard shell, bumpy and rough.
White and pale, cold to the touch. Through a crack, an eye appears.
Soft and moist, not ready, dripping tears.
Skin soft, untested, untouched.
Waiting, wanting, to be loved.
Hidden from the world, sensitive nerves
Wet, still, from birth it serves
Seeking sun, seeking sight.
Ugly because it was sheltered from light
Doesn't know what to do.
It never had a chance to be loved by you.
As time goes on, chances missed
Not knowing for what it had wished
Never will it live again
Only here to endure its pain.
Her beauty was mesmerizing
Icy blue eyes
Perfectly done up blonde hair
Applied make up that made her look like a magazine cover
Long legs, a model's body
A swagger that beckons
Gorgeous smile, that never touched her eyes
Awestruck by her visage
Memorable she should be
But looks don't define the person
Beauty doesn't make the queen
Words that cut
Attitude that isolates
Oblivious to others
Vapid in thought
Like everyone else, she only sees her
Ugly she is to me