like fine dust

like fine dust
feeding the cat and filling a water glass
-i am shocked that suddenly my precious solitude
–feels dead and empty
—i’ve lived in this orgasmic silence
—-so long that it has grown with every split inch of hair i’ve cut
—–and instantly it is no longer vibrant and productive
——but gross like fine dust settling in my pores


 

The tension of being a solitary girl, again.  There was someone I wanted to share my deepest space with way back then.  I should just write a damn book on that year.  Of course, I practically did and it now goes by the old manuscript tag here.

About m

My ego wants to think I'm a writer but my heart knows I'm just another one of God's Kids who sometimes has words to say. 2 human kids and 3 feline kids call me Mom. Or Mooooooom. Or mewom, depending which you ask. I'm kinda-sorta busy being a student again; this time I signed myself up for a bizarre torture known as Graduate School. Theoretically in 4ish years I'll have earned some more nice letters to put with my name. Let's face it, I'm addicted to learning and probably need rehab to restore me to sanity and remove the obsession to read books. I don't remember what free time is but I think I like to spend it sleeping or playing in the mud on a river bank.
This entry was posted in creative writing, poetry and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s