Call Me Moonstruck

(I start writing this last night, forgive the rambling incoherence)

My dreams have been very strange the last few nights. For example I dreamed of us together on a sofa breeding aliens in prescription bottles. There was another dream too, I got a name. I looked up the name online and found two accounts both empty and a word saudade which means- a deep emotional state of nostalgic or profound melancholic longing for an absent something or someone that one cares for and/or loves. I wondered if maybe you had an alias or if we were both missing each other at the same time.

I think about our journey everyday. I think about you every minute of everyday and it is as if my brain had the hiccups. I think about myself too and I can’t tell if I am running toward you or away from you. I only know that I want to be closer, much closer. Soul, skin, heart I crave your touch in every sense of the word. Mostly I think myself into tourniquets, into tight panicked circles that suffocate. At the moment I am having trouble thinking about anything, I have a headache, a heartache, a soulache. I am throbbing all over.

Today my hunger for you exceeded my compassion. For a moment I lost you to jealousy. It wasn’t anything substantiated, it was simply the thought of you with someone else. I forgot that you have your own journey. I forgot about your happiness. I wanted you to be here, to be mine, to speak the words that I have only dared to write.

This whole time deep down I believed that in order for you to love me I needed to become someone. That I needed to do something to prove myself your equal. That I needed to say something particular to unlock the secrets between us. As if those answers were external, problems to be solved. I kept myself busy trying to change your mind without even knowing what it was you had in mind. I was worried about how you might see me. I was scared that you would put me in a box. I didn’t want to be just another customer. I didn’t want to be another lovesick fan. I didn’t want to be a stranger. Yet these are the terms I used to define myself. These are also the terms I use to frighten myself back into reality. In defining myself in this way I put you into a box too.

I thought about my need to know what happens next in any given situation. I thought about all of the time I have wasted confirming my own beliefs at the expense of experience. I thought about how rare it is to make love. I thought about how almost all relationships end with one person saying “I don’t know you anymore.” when what they really mean is “Somewhere along the line I decided that comfort was more important to me than happiness.” I guess what I am saying is that there is a reason for the uncertainty, for the not knowing, for the indefinable nature of it all. We aren’t here to define each other. We aren’t meant to simply go through the motions. We are meant to discover each other every minute of everyday. And it is not just you that I am getting to know, it is myself. Myself more than anyone. We are awakening.

The love we feel, is proportional to the love we give ourselves. In order to feel loved we have to trust in our own capacity to love. We have to allow ourselves to love and to be loved in turn. Love is not something we have to earn, prove, or do. It is not about pursuing another person for the sake of attainment or attachment, it is about a desire to know oneself more intimately, a willingness to be vulnerable and open whatever the circumstances. At least that was the message I received today. Actually it is a message I have received many times but it contradicts everything I learned as a child. As a child I learned it was selfish to love oneself. I learned that relationships are stiff and heavy. I learned that men and women want very different things. I tried so hard to be chosen that I lost sight of myself in the process. My needs, wants, desires, my humanness became somehow taboo. There is a song by Depeche Mode “Somebody” which describes what I want pretty well.

I want somebody to share
Share the rest of my life
Share my innermost thoughts
Know my intimate details

Someone who’ll stand by my side
And give me support
And in return
She’ll get my support

She will listen to me
When I want to speak
About the world we live in
And life in general

Though my views may be wrong
They may even be perverted
She’ll hear me out
And won’t easily be converted

To my way of thinking
In fact, she’ll often disagree
But at the end of it all
She will understand me

I want somebody who cares
For me passionately
With every thought
And with every breath

Someone who’ll help me see things
In a different light
All the things I detest
I will almost like

I don’t want to be tied
To anyone’s strings

I’m carefully trying to stay clear
Of those things

But when I’m asleep
I want somebody
Who will put their arms around me
And kiss me tenderly

Though things like this
Make me sick
In a case like this
I’ll get away with it

I wonder if I don’t actually want to be tied up by you, to be tangled up in you occasionally. I want to be myself and I want you to be yourself. To me that is freedom in the truest sense and still I think it is okay to be a bit messy, a bit complicated, a bit contradictory. I want monogamy and commitment.

Yesterday I made love to myself. It wasn’t masturbation because I was thinking of you. I pretended that you were there, inside of the sweater. It’s too big for me to wear really but every night I drape it over my naked body like a lover. I have washed it now, several times, but I remember the way it smelled. Before it smelled like me. I think that your hands must have touched it and I think of all the things I would like to do to your hands. I want to make love to your hands, I have a fetish.


Wordle #162



Underneath your laughter

A pigeon squeaks.

Wings flutter furiously,

A pregnant meeting stuck

To its leathery ankle.

It rolls through your smile

Barely breaking free

Your dozing mandible.

What does it all mean?

I follow your eyes

To her north-pointing breasts

Surveying her physics

Her incomprehensible beauty.

That face which needs

No introduction and those sweet

Pollinating lips which mate

Eagerly with yours;

A welcome deeper than warranted.

I treat her with careful hands

And shades of awe-inspiring envy.

My heart unwilling to report

To its more cumbersome brain.

Whatever I feel, whatever I lack

I carry with me, bracketed inside

A withering pump. Silently,

Stewing in my contagion and hers.

Wordle #57 “April 20, 2015″

Week 57

A syzygy of grey moons line my pillowcase

Meek, brittle, and in this moment ornamental.

What I fear has not come to pass

Yet each time I picture her, the intern,

Blank as a college-ruled notebook

I smother my holdings, hoping only

That they will die, passively with me.

A troglodyte composed in her shadow,

I do not even exist but for comparison.

That this miraculous creature

Should mount the wick

While I congeal in a shallow dish

Is a recursion of fate, a necessity.

What am I if not sublimation?

Her pelvis bounces incessantly

As if her womb were a bell,

Calling mass and every man

Wanting to worship inside of her.

Posterity will render me harshly

For such a gorgeous woman

Cannot but be the heroine

And she will save you from pain

From the years of sorries and neverminds

Imposed on the faithful.





Do I cater to the tempestuous,

The saccharine need to disembowel?

Must I live in the gutter

In order to know

The profundity of heaven?

Too close and I fear I’d overlook

The divinity in the mundane


Repression has rendered me oblivious

Despite essay I am the same as I ever was

Still jealous, still competitive, still irritable

A blood red hexagram somersaulting

Between preservation and curse


Renovation seems to me now

A form of murder if I change anymore

I will be irreparably diminished

Blinded by my desire to disguise

That which is inherent in man

I will transgress in the dark

Assigning to each defect a proxy


When I was a child I was very competitive (not in the positive way) and very jealous. Over the years I have read countless self-improvement books and tested out countless methods to alleviate these unsatisfactory traits. I thought I’d made substantial headway as some of the problem behaviors had subsided but I recently learned that I still possess these traits in abundance. Only now they are manifesting in new less obvious ways. Which led me to believe my more recent relationship issues were related to other unidentified issues when they were in fact related to my jealousy/competitiveness. I wish I’d realized sooner the source but years of repression aka change and I am completely out of synch with myself. The last few days I have been very much in my head hence not being so available. The truth is I haven’t changed much over the years obviously I don’t react to situations quite the same way I did in childhood I have matured in some ways but I still harbor exactly the same feelings, many of the same thoughts, and more or less the same personality aside from a few natural preference changes (I like mushrooms now haha). I think self-improvement has more to do with self-hate than growth. I am not saying that at 33 it is okay to throw a tantrum whenever I don’t get my way but it is okay to feel whatever I am experiencing. It is okay to express myself as well. Many people who embark on self-improvement exercises (self-included) hope to get rid of unwanted traits and feelings but that is impossible. You are who you are. You can alter your responses but only if you are dead honest with yourself about who you are in the first place.

Fairytale Prompt #2


There is no malice darker

Than incessant jealousy

I have a blood claim, a history

A taste toward disobedience

With you being the sole witness

I am not chosen but indelible

I am the burlap-cloaked adversary

Of your loathsome schemes


There was a sign upon your heart

Declaring no vacancies in letters as red

As the pupils of a demonic vestige

All the gaps stuffed with oil-soaked cotton

Every entreaty became a lit match

I stood quietly at the base of your spine

An oft sighted impingement,

An obelisk shadowing every detour

Inescapable, unalterable, unwelcome


I slept in the stables with the horses

A delinquent without tarnish

An innocent unjustly held

To values unanswerably named

I could never appease my debt

For it grows without cultivation

If I died you’d lament still

The expense of my grave

Your husband’s negligent tears

As he wept the loss

Of his only daughter


For the Fairytale Prompt 

Prompt 45 Festering Jealousy


By: Sammy Slabbinck

Jealousy isn’t an emotion we like to discuss much less acknowledge but most of us have experienced it. We’ve been subjected to the jealousy of others and we’ve experienced the painful insecurities that engender it.

I don’t have siblings of my own but I was a little competitive with my closest cousins for some siblings rivalry can take a very dramatic/tragic turn. I had a friend who felt so inferior to her older sister that it destroyed her from the inside.

There is romantic jealousy sometimes based on actual events/behaviors sometimes completely irrational

Friends can experience jealousy and in adolescence competition over sexual and romantic interests is common.

Sometimes people idolize or obsess over a celebrity, authority, or popular person

Pageants and other types of competitions or sports are also something to consider

For this prompt feel free to write a fictional piece that way you can really exaggerate the experience


Santos, Cesar The Moth and The LampCesar Santos “The Moth and the Lamp”

A butterfly born

Likewise in eclipse


With the morning rise

Why can’t I taste

With impunity

The same pride?


In shadows a beauty

Unseen and misaligned


These jaundiced eyes drip

Do not speak

Of instinct

As if delirium

If I am mad

Then upon

My breath I vow

That you

Suffer decorously

But suffer



Why must I abide

In darkness?

An anathema

This rivalry

This bias

That forbids



Say that you

Do not understand me

For are we not all

To some archetype


Do we not all

Seek that which we

Perceive deficient?


For Magpie Tales