from the free.write exercise...


sheets twisted like snakes
swirling between interlocked legs
gripping each other
while he crawled into her skin
lust-filled gentleness of ferocity
kisses bitten into the curves of neck
his touch
ignited embers under satin coverings
her body
turned vessel for convection of heat
radiating like fingers
that dug into tense muscles

loosening.

they melted into each other
two molten souls smoldering in candlelit shadows
volcanic eruptions
emitting crescendoes of eroticism

glowing.

it has been said
fire at the highest of temperatures
burns cold

and as they clung to each other
blanketed only in exhaustion
their bodies shivered, like passion, along the beds frame

f u c k

sometimes
sayin it slow gives more meaning
like the drawn out fuckery of everyday living
seriously

fuck you and your harrassment
bill collection bastards
banks that send mail to the wrong address
speeding ticket bullshit
lets not get started on my taxes.
and fuck the boys masquerading as men
changing wants and needs with the weather
as if im a fucking mind reader
and while im at it...
fuck you mother nature.

no seriously.
whens it enough
i mean
fuck the job search fuck being over qualified
fuck i go to school for anyways?
oh excuse me i didnt realize
my fancy degree and my job experience
meant you couldnt hire me
to do some bullshit $10/ hour job
so i could pay off all these damn assholes who feel the need
to constantly hold their hand out.

i mean.
i know i owe them but shit.
give a girl a break you know?

because i swear to whoever the fuck is listening
theres a point when water freezes
and a higher one where it boils
and im not too sure which direction im headin
but either way
explosion is looking pretty much
in.ev.it.ab.le
break the word down
because when im pissed
i gotta
e.nun.ci.ate every damn syll.a.ble.


i find this funny.
how many times 'sunny' and 'disposition'
merge together as part of my self-description
because im so far from being an angry person
even though
so many have told me...
i have an anger management problem
but fuck all that
you cant manage what you dont acknowledge.
right?

im so tired
of
juggling balls like a damn circus clown
(and i dont even like clowns. let alone juggling.)
i dont even know if they are still in the air anymore
just going through the motions
while the pieces hit the ground
silently
and i dont know how to pick them up
hands moving all around
flailing, if you will
grasping for some sort of strength to hold on to

but really
all im doin is playing 'ooh child' over and over again
tricking the mind
that things are gonna get easier
but thats the same song and dance
ive been doin for so long
i think i forgot the steps
got caught up in the twirls maybe
because i sure as hell havent made it to easier
and i damn sure as hell dont know too many that have
i dont even know what easier looks like
but i do know i dont have enough to pay the toll
on that road.

i know my complaints are petty
but
a whole lotta petty little rocks
have turned into a mountain on my back
and rocks on the backs of those i love
have made their way
to rest on my heart
and i feel so heavy
weighed down
but at the same time
i could really care less
about my bullshit
about their bullshit
my life
their life

if i let myself feel
for too long
i dont think i'll ever stop
and i dont know which
leads to more
self-destruction.

i doubt i'll ever figure it out
so i'll just sit here
acting like i give a fuck about anything
and curse at everyone
under my breath
because for a small minute as the fucccckkkkk youuuu
creeps out
i feel just a tiny bit better.

... with Nathaniel Donnett's artwork



Childhood Spirit OOA
The Lost Children Series; In The Angelic Playgrounds
36in x 60in

each piece speaks as if he painted a voice onto the canvas.

you should really go visit his new online home.

just lovely.