OCD

by on July 3, 2009 :: 0 comments

so far my face in check
the brave but tired
puts makeup
after covering bags, scars and overnight wrinkes
set in worry.
double chin needs
double love
and a swig and a pull
on a bottle
would be better
would be better
if not alone in the barstools
id find myself these days.

this is what happens
when no one is around
wishful make-upping and all

shave thick calves and rusty knees,
pedicure sandpaper old feet
and slather miracle potions,
paint the snail tip toe nails
black or red or purple
pray and wish someone to notice

this is what happens
when the walls turn in
and its 3 am and my thoughts wander
to you

to any of you
long lost in the tides of indifference
or hopefully
death
to make my part seem less at fault
for the faultering ways
i keep stepping in the shit
your shit

your shit
eating grins

I can smell your shitty breath on me

i peer into my imagination to
see you laughing at me
it doens’t bother me
really,
it’s always been that way

so i wash
like a fat girl who sits
in the back of class
and prays to dissapear
or for duck and cover to mushroom the town
into black and white filmstrip
oblivion
or collapsing race champion horses
or dirty mexican animal flu’s

to take it all away.

i rinse it, redskinned down into the sink
and with the imaginary grime
goes all my chances
of sanity
saving grace
or normal niceties
we together
may have ever had.

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