Neglected, ignored.
Like faithful dogs, blogs wait for
their masters’ return.
Neglected, ignored.
Like faithful dogs, blogs wait for
their masters’ return.
Some days she doesn’t
fit into her skin, too young
to be old this soon.
She contemplates bangs,
a different color, hair
as reinvention.
At the Happiest
Place on Earth, worn-out tots shriek,
deprived of their naps.
It happens over
coffee, one stunned, the other
already elsewhere.
Meeting tomorrow.
Haven’t even opened it.
That’s life on the edge.
based on a poem written by M.
They say I need a
man. Chocolate. But an eye
lash curler’s enough.
original source:
I don’t need chocolate to eat or a man in my life
I just think I do
because of the media
All I really need is my eyelash curler.
Hives. Itching. As if
her body can’t coexist
with her sense of self.
for S.
Without a ring she’s
uncertain, the baby no
guarantee he’ll stay.
She talks of threesomes,
abortions, things her mother-
in-law would faint at.