I O.D.’D – MY C.O.D.
I’m dour and sour this vexing hour,
And I can’t fake “fine” no mo.’ But NO,
I won’t die from an OD of FOMO,
Though an OD will be the official COD
Of poor and dead Me,
Literally mortified from crying,
Drying, frying, and flying SOLO
So long and so low.
You are dead and fully retired to me;
You must not know, persisting as a vampire.
You came on very, very hot; but you’re NOT!
You drained me of my energy
And leeched my blood from me
When I was in need of food;
I would’ve gladly offered YOU my blood.
I no longer see your reflection,
It’s so grimy with deception.
There’s clearly something wrong with you:
The most confounding and astounding
Person I never knew.
If I hadn’t seen your face,
I’d be certain that you’re fake.
You were a giant waste of time
And the pleasure wasn’t MINE.
You Immature moronic fool,
Why’d I waste a nanosecond on you?
The most passive person under the sun;
The lengths you’ll go are slim-to-none.
And though I know you personally,
You were never there for me;
No active participant,
Just an active follower.
These passive “likes” grow
Hollower & hollower.
Such empty gestures make me scoff;
Why not just cut them off?!!
You didn’t do a single thing for me,
So If within the throes of misery
Or the throes of reverie,
Go ahead and Forget about me,
Cuz I’ve forgotten about you!
And next time, maybe grow some cojones,
You dark and shadowed, empty Phony.
Life has surely broken me.
I flunk out at Everything.
Why consider equally
When Options just desert Me?
Forgive not pointed sharp for me;
Still grimed up, I cannot see
A single reason surfacing,
Hiding Places changing
Constantly
And arbitrarily
Disappoint inevitably:
Never, Ever, Frequently
Only end up baffle-ing
That the Ones who stuck by Me
Were No One and Nobody.
The Needed ones Abandoned me,
Never even wanted me.
Been let down by Everything
And 100% of Practically
All and Every
One and Single Thing,
Left for dead and wasting
To a husk of Me.
So What’s the point,
Sharpened pointedly,
When you will only
Start new things?
Old ones failing,
Interest lost and dropping,
Forcing hands repeatedly.
Home to pack a bag and leave,
All doors slammed resoundingly,
Locks all changed and shut to me.
Happy Endings Abruptly.
Don’t care what you do to me.
Lost my sensitivity,
Burning hurts so painfully,
Once Angry scars
Protect My Heart
From the Hope, Now lost to me;
It doesn’t hurt, just disappoints.
I have no mass, I’ve been disjoined,
Won’t shatter when you drop me.
All do eventually;
A mere eventuality,
Forgone Conclusively.
(FOR THE SERIOUSLY DEPRESSED FOLKS)
I can’t feel happy,
Just feel bad;
It seems spying others
Loving lives I couldn’t have
Only serves to make me sad.
I guess I can’t bear
Their “too much glad,”
Since seasonal “Holiday Cheer”
Only assures a downpour of tears.
So at this time of year,
I often find my only wish
Is to take my life’s remainder
And dump it in a trash container.
Why? Loving care is too rare
For unspared, unpaired ME to bag,
So my life’s an existential drag.
Damn! Why can’t I find a man
Who loves me as I am,
So I could feel some joy again?
Taking myself out of the trash
Requires some serious cash,
So it feels like the remains of my brain
Will feel pain for the remains of my days!
I’m in the hospital with no friends,
And the TV’s glow only shows
Happily coupled women and men.
So, please answer this query,
Fellow YouTube Fairies,
Since you’re all much smarter than me
(Even with my Ivy League masters degree):
“Why can’t Only Lonely Me
Fake or pretend
My shattered heart
Will ever mend?”
It’s a question I can’t defend.
My suffering is no joke or hoax,
So I guess my happy endings
Are at an end.
So, as the old cartoons used to say
“Tha… tha.. that’s all, folks.”
I decided to write every day.
I don’t know what I will say.
I hope that my words find a way
Out and onto the page.
Anyway, I have to go to AA
Now where I will chair.
I don’t know why I’m there.
Believe me when I tell y’all
I wasn’t downed by Alcohol.
I didn’t hang out with thugs,
But I was an addict of drugs:
The prescription kind stole my mind
And no sliver of peace could find
Its way to my nerves, so my
Way with words succumbed
To my need to pill myself numb.
Now sober, I’m off to my meeting
Where I can’t discuss the defeating
Obsession of which you are reading.
I Haven’t Written…
In so long, and my desire to write
Used to be so strong.
Little birds dropped
Words I’d convert to song.
I don’t know what’s now wrong,
But I still ache and I still long
To write right for no throng
Of awaiting readers, so
Why’m I such a self-defeater?
I guess I’ll toss up a verse
For hungry eaters,
Hoping to sate a solo
Rhyme needer.
THE TRAGIC LIFE OF A LEAF 🍃 🍂
You start out green and new, as a brand new shoot, nurtured by a Loving Mother Tree, and surrounded by lush, growing sibling leaves all growing around you.
In relative, naive Harmony,
You mature and grow into the most verdant version of Yourself, peaking a little too early, given the length of your life cycle.
After you’ve served Your Purpose (you were never told what it was), your kindly mother turns on you;
Once she nurtured you, watered you, and warmed you by sunlight.
You were whole and thriving and complete.
Now, she cuts off these vital nutrients.
All of a sudden, you’re given no light, no food, no water.
And no answers about WHY.
Your sibling leaves are going through a similar situation,
So they are of very little use to you.
Frankly, they’re every bit as confused as you.
You slowly starve and dry up until you’re officially “desiccated.”
Then, the Mother Tree drops you.
The winds of change blow you onto a completely random path,
forcing you to intermingle with leaves you don’t even know,
Making one last splash as “fall foliage,”
Which you don’t even enjoy because you look so differently than you did in your prime, you barely recognize yourself.
The next thing you know, you’re 5 miles down the road, in a stranger’s yard (not even a nice one),
Being raked into giant piles and stuffed into suffocating black garbage bags, kicked to the curb to ferment, and then carted off by some rather grubby-looking men to be burned, incinerated, and reincarnated into fertilizer. 🪦
I’m warm and I’m kind,
And most of you would define me as “refined”
Because I don’t man-spurn just to head turn.
But you don’t understand the debt the NEXT man
Has to pay me for all the OTHERS
Who’ve deceived, betrayed, or played me.
Should that include YOU,
All I’ll kindly do is issue you
A used tissue to use
Once YOU learn of all
HE plans to do to YOU!!
“HE” being The Guy
Who sets me back on high,
And sets my world aright.
I’d been taken down by a bunch of clowns,
So that somehow, I was too tight-lipped
And UPTIGHT to love a man UPRIGHT.
So I was surprised when the RIGHT guy
Entered my life without much of a fuss
And didn’t impress me much.
But the first time we touched,
My brain was cut,
A stain was made,
A bond was sealed,
And plans were made.
So for all of y’all who DID NOT
Treat me THE EXACT SAME WAY,
All I feel compelled to say
Or do is simply warn you.
Though if I’m honest,
You don’t stand the slightest chance
Against his practiced lance.
First, He’ll abduct you;
Won’t immediately crush you.
He’ll casually take a solitary smoke
As you choke, roast, BURN, and turn
On MY spit while HE sits
To watch, yet won’t move or get off
On the satisfying scene
Of all who chose to scoff, piss me off,
Neglect me, or disrespect me.
You’ll only be seen when it’s dark,
Darting away from this
HIGHLY buff guy, the
Buffering for MY Suffering.
He’s loyal and ready, and
His hands are always steady.
He’s committed to ME and any of YOU
Who ever treated me like a Ho’
Or inferred me so.
Since that includes many of YOU dudes,
I’d be SCARED if I were you!
He’ll set about to cull
Those most dull and boast-FULL of themselves;
Who don’t bother to think before
Driving others to the brink of hell.
Well, they’ll all YELL when they hear tell
Of MY MAN’S plans to send THEM to Hell!
His thirst for MY Justice
Refuses to be quenched
By any word-wielding wrench
Into his meticulous plans,
Since my need for healing
And his absence of guilty feelings
Are only avenged by Revenge.
After the bloodbath of HIS wrath is spilled,
He’ll come home to draw ME a long bath,
Clean me, soothe me, then lovingly feed
My avenged Revenge deep down inside of me.
My life will be better
With fewer of these Regretters,
And I’ll no longer weep,
Nor have trouble falling asleep.
Why? He’ll be a dove-loving,
Reflective and protective,
Guy: an otherwise schemin’ demon
Who loves me beyond reason,
Since I ended HIS monsoon season.
My loved one isn’t young,
Yet his terrifying reigns
Are NO fun for the dumb ones
Who caused me the tiniest bit of pain,
Because killing my pain is all that relieves
Someone as Dark as HE 🌚
Besides, of course, a Light like ME 🌞
HEAVEN-SENT CHRISTINA
I have a few friends I’m all in for, since
They’re always there and always fair.
Christina is one of the best of them, so
I’d like to pen a poem I wrote to note
Her kindness, compassion, royalty,
Loyalty, and heavenly fineness.
She may appear tiny, but she’s mighty
And down to earth, and though busy,
She’s never dizzy nor flighty, just nicely
Above the rest, loving God the very best.
Her best qualities are generosity,
Devotion, soothing potions, and care.
So I’m sure you’ll agree there’s no angel
More lovely than Christina Anywhere❣️
Whether adoring on ground or soaring in
The air, she’s the “mas fina” angel there.
She makes and brings food to my brood, and
Hasn’t once been rude to dunce nor prude‼️
Sadly, this regal daughter drinks from sinking waters,
Since OUR TOWN’s drought brings us down.
Women bear the only crowns, since good guys
Can’t be found and rarely come to call, but when
They do, they most masquerade as clowns
Not right or bright at all!
I want Christina to fall in love in 2025,
But I want a husband and wedding band.
So if you gaze upon her angelic beauty,
And you compelled to apply, please don’t expect
An immediate reply unless you’re the right guy
Who’s wise enough to see a treasured prize
From above in this angel’s flight of love. 🪽
LADY MACDEATH 🩸
Out!! Out, Damned Spot!
Guilt floods HOT through my
Veins and hands in vain,
Since the plans I’m committed to
Are crimes I’ll commit, too,
Though, I know I should refuse.
My husband and I are willing to
Use any charm to cause harm
To a fellow countrymen, a dunce
We once called a friend, but my
Stature wasn’t as tall and I wasn’t
As bitter back then.
I don’t usually conspire with liars, but
Duncan hasn’t been fired and won’t retire.
So heady ambition woos me into a state
Where I contemplate how to marinate my
Envy and Hate into a brew I can stew over
While hatching plans to murder a man,
And evidence will show upon my hands.
So, on the morrow, we shall borrow
Cauldrons with double the broil
And twice the Bubble,
Hoping to treble the trouble for
Every evil the wind blows in, since
Life merely struts upon a stage.
So when the bard’s bloody hard,
Spotted hands must turn the page
Over and into a new life or stage,
Where we can engage with rage or
Find sex, gore, and war to explore.
So thank you, unborn Shakespeare,
For penning such compelling plays
We can’t forget, so like an elephant,
Your gifts always remain relevant. 🐘🎭
