Not Only Will I Bleed

there is no angrier despair
no self loathing more exhaustive
no other introspection so heartrending

than that of a premenstrual woman
falling prey to her hormones
as her body rages war on her vehemence
for not getting pregnant
again
this month.


every 28 days
to the fucking day
my self confidence is shattered
and my tolerance is completely shot.
for roughly six days
I am on a hypersensitive rollercoaster through emotion.
constructive criticisms that are normally appreciated
become fatal blows.
I nearly cry over the empty coffee can.
and any members of the male species that dare gaze in my direction..?

my body says to my head, WHY AREN'T YOU REPRODUCING!
and my head snaps their way
to glare with the desperate piercing eyes of a starving jaguar
that would rather risk
the extinction of her species
and devour
her mate
instead of procreate.

(men are lucky I don't have fangs.)

Met You Prior

lately
I have discovered
how many of my recent encounters
with friends of old, and new
have been within my sleep.

I find myself debating
what has
and has not
occurred.

so ever I awander
betwixt these plains of conscious thought
and this alternate version of life
fulfilled with transcendent stimulation
yet starved
for human atmosphere and conversation.

if I had met you prior
in a dream
would I still have found you
while awake?

Dissipativity

my room
it smells
of you

how you've lingered in the air.
you
have come
and you
have gone

and I am stuck in yesterday.
(too tired to go on.)


your lips spoke certain words
but a different story was shining
in your eyes.

and with our last embrace
the future flashed
and flickered
and faded
with your tail lights.
(fireworks style.)

how sweet of you
to catch
the final
kiss.