At First Blush

I guess I'm drowning
Or am I?
Waiting to be pulled under
At any moment
Slipping from above and beyond
Behind drawn curtains
And nonexempt from
The pervasive pangs of humiliation
And defeat
Artificial ties that bind
The empty corridors echo
As my shaky legs surf
Above the ocean
Noble and agile
Balanced and innocent
No longer
The strain of till-death-do-us-part
Consumes me
The false narrative
Insisting I believe
Instead I embrace the libido-killing boredom
Unstoppable waves of
Swirling sexual frustration
Dysfunctional on all levels
Resigned to confusion
And shame
And unhappiness
Sacrificing desire for family stability?
Eroticism come to me
Emotional intimacy of isolation
Free me from the transitory coldness
You adorn
The ball and chain cloak
Around my neck
Am I drowning?
Sometimes awakenings
Can feel wet.

Up My Sleeve

It's one of those times.
None of this is pleasant.
Long and nauseating
As I face day after day
Trying to do what's best
For everyone involved
Yet failing
No longer free
Or supported
Harassed and alone
Intimidated
Exacerbated and disrespected
Personally
And professionally
Absolutely devastating
Unstable
Waning dedication
Fear
Climbing back into the hole
Like Alice
None of this makes sense. 

Sepulcher

She's dead
The blue electricity sizzling
Syncopated notes
Underneath her blouse
As she sheds her last tear.
Why doesn't the preacher tell us?
He passes the buck
Between the mortician
The coroner
The doctor
The therapist
Caught in a system
Of numbers and quotas
A long time ago
She met someone she really liked
He looked straight at her
Piercing
Probing
Returning her gaze
As if she counted
She loved him
And he loved her.
One day all of it faded
Seeing her meant nothing.
To him,  she was like all the others
His favorite subject himself
Her eyes were closed
A silhouette hanging
In the darkness
Her arched brows penetrating
The silence of the morgue
With stern cheekbones
And pierced lips
A terrible whisper stifled while
The emptiness fingered the cold walls
Like granite, imploring her to let go
Of the throbbing voice that brought
Her here within the tomb.

Dropped Eyes

We drop our eyes
At responsibility
Quickly
Forgetting
Oaths to protect
And raise
Cherishing self
Instead of her
Surrounding yourself
With pain
And addiction
Degradation
Around each corner
Poor and afraid
Beyond the mask
You wear
My bleeding smile
Rising up
To create
The legacy
That which lives after us
We create ourselves daily
Realities that are both
Paranoid
And real
Destructive planks
The whip
And the lash
Out of evil
Comes no good
Nodding like broken
Candles
Flickering
In the blackness
That is no more
Cowardly
And afraid
Indifferent once again
Unable to create
Art from cynicism.

Imperfections

Held up to the public gaze
My imperfections shouting
Back at me
Why can't you take a risk
Professionally
They're grooming you
Job descriptions handed to you
Before the public posting
Invitations to San Jose
In two fucking weeks
Conference last week
And next
We'll pay for your sub
They say
Tell us what you need
You have to act fast
5 applicants already
Submit your papers now
Everything's a blur
A rush of decisions
With no chance to reflect
Or breathe
She buckles under pressure
Succumbing to the present
The future already behind her
Asking questions
And getting only silence
Or vague generalities
She is a teacher

What If

What if tonight were the night?
It could be.
I'd get blamed for being selfish
Leaving my children
The cowardly thing to do.
But what if?
The pain would be gone
And I would be free.
The tears would dry up
My acquaintances wouldn't
Miss me
And the people who pretended
They loved me would whisper
In hushed tones
Saying she had a dysfunctional
Marriage
After a few weeks the quiet voices
Wouldn't talk anymore
The sympathy cards would stop coming
And they'd go on living
Just like they did
When I was here
Staring bleakly into the sunset
Until it was their time
To return to the earth
Let the composting begin
We all must go sometime.

In the End

I struggle today
With self-imposed
Feelings of inadequacy
Tightening around my neck
Like the scarf wrapped
Too tightly around the mannequin
In Long Beach
I don't loathe myself
Entirely
Truly blessed am I
Smiling
Laughing
Glowing
Thankful for my parents
Children
Friends
One perhaps
On the edge of thriving
Peripheral expectations
If only I could break free
Take a risk
Today is messy and uncertain
Joy thiefs lurk under
The Golden Gate Bridge
I pound my fists against
My limitations
If I surrender
I have a chance
But I'm not one for happy endings
Hope remains illusive
Overspending
Overdoing
Overperforming
Self compassion dead
Dirty laundry piling up in baskets
Beckoning me
Succumbing to the temptation
Of chaos
Death should follow soon
But I've never been the lucky one