Love Letter #35

Dear DM,

The last few days have been difficult. I’ve had trouble sleeping. I’m in pain. Emotionally. Physically. I’m feeling lost and alone. Turns out I am not that introverted. Probably I’m just shy and avoidant. In other words, I really like my fucking freedom. It’s one thing to hang out at home ‘cuz you feel like it but being stuck at home day after day due to extenuating circumstances will make you crazy. I could really use some social interaction. I don’t mean anything particular by this just that I would like to have a conversation. A day out of the house with people. Eye contact. The sound of a voice.

I went out for ice cream today. They actually had mint chocolate chip (the green kind which is best). It’s probably an American thing. Toothpaste-flavored ice cream. No idea why it’s so awesome. Yes I do. Cold on cold. I saw a couple on a date. I’m wondering if there is a platonic way to date when you’re a grownup? I love hanging out. I love inappropriate jokes. I love stupid shit like tag and play fighting. I haven’t really dated since I was a teenager. So I am probably stunted or something. To amuse myself I go on walks with headphones on and dance or pretend I’m on a runway. I live in a village of around a 1,000 so I am guessing there are, at least, a 1,000 people out there that think I’ve lost my fucking shit. Which I have. I’ve totally lost my shit.

I definently don’t want platonic with you though. If there was confusion.

I still haven’t worked out this whole concept of surrender. How do I get out of the way and just allow the universe to work its groovy voodoo? I’m really good at making things harder than they need to be. I just don’t get it. Can’t we just fuck up and see how it goes from there? I want you as is. Sometimes I wish you would say something. You know? I don’t know like give me a sign or something.

I don’t dislike myself in a general sense (though I’d be lying if I said I was always easy) but it’s been a very, very long time since anyone has expressed a romantic interest or physical attraction in me. I’m starting to develop a complex about it. I know that it doesn’t mean anything. I know my worth doesn’t come from other people’s opinions but it is just inconceivable to me at this point that someone could see me in this way. It’s been too long. I’ve forgotten how that feels. How it feels to be seduced. To be pursued. In dreams you do these things of course.

I am trying to figure out how to enjoy being awake and indoors mostly and for indefinite periods of time. Honestly, I seem to be allergic to absolutely everything in the outside world. Which reminds me I had the bright idea to use scented products in the wash so I could smell something other than my own skin and now my whole body itches like crazy and the washing machine broke shortly after so I can’t rewash my clothes. My body is short-circuiting from stress. I mean I am literally allergic to everything right now. Why?!

There was an advertisement in the Swedish newspaper about Yoni massage. Should I consider this for stress relief? I can orgasm by myself but there is so much tension in my body I feel like I am going to break in half. I really need some fun in my life. Some way to decompress.

With all my love your DF

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Wordle #133

image-3

The rhythm of my fists

Drown the distances

Between disparate infinities.

The whisper of wood

Against my relentless impulse.

We all seek to destroy

The moments bridging events.

I kneel before the invisible

A precise hum to drown

The denizens inside my head.

Another hit of creation,

Another dose of detachment

Years of anguish emit

A capsizing refrain

And I am only me

Same as I ever was.

Muffled

Vincent_Cacciotti_WWA_artptb20-2

Vincent Cacciotti

 

Perhaps I am a sphinx

For my vowels as mice squeak

Vehement in stupor

They wind round and round

The black veins of an oiled clock

Never do they embellish

The requisite rind

The insular consonant

This bludgeoned throat

Wails on conclusion

Having established naught

 

 

Stall

full_rusty-stop-sign

The stop sign governs my life

I wait at the corners of every intersection

Delayed and ostensibly impenitent

Inside I’m screaming “Go Go Go

While you still have hope to spare!”

But the engine no longer turns

For I’ve no fuel left to hearten

*

I have writer’s block or maybe I should say I have poetry block. I am so emotionally constipated that I find myself uncomfortable with everything I produce

Venus vs. Mars

Room_II_by_the_surreal_artsArt By: the-surreal-arts

Her pitiless eyes

Hang from the ceiling

Like exposed light bulbs

Pendulous and accusatory

I plead simplicity

Scarifying palatable alibis

With my inconsonant grin

*

She poses in silence

Features tarnished and angular

I wrap my knuckles

Metaphorically against her chest

The wind howls contemptuously

From betwixt iron-plated ribs

*

Her ellipse is vulturine

Folded arms poetizing assault

If only her fists fell instead

Then I could wrap my arms

Around her tremulous form

And restore this wicked flame

To its rightful red

*

Some days I have trouble finding my muse and today was one of those days!