MY little BROWN BOOK

An Email for Mary

They are not fake. They are real. They slide down putrid tunnels and fester.

Dark thoughts running about like Aliens at the border, searching for Me.

They hate when I'm happy and revel in my disgrace. Under the skin they build cold sores.

I ache within the shadows of my own replicas. 

63 statues I've built to commemorate how 'fawk tup' I am. 

These 63 threadbare women, dressed in Holiday hope, only sour

my stomach and mortar and pestle my brains each year. 

My dark thoughts are real!

I simply wanted a moment to care about you, 

but no, 

you scorned my cheery disposition.

You said that my pain wasn't prevalent in my communications.

Well I'm sorry Mary 

if I ain't got Emo Bands latching on at my nipples

and Gothic Easter Eggs bungee jumping from my arse!

You people!

Minuscule martyrs making morose memory monopolies!

Have You cornered the market on self loathing?

It's so beautiful the way some of you 

Call forth the Grim Reaper as if your worthy of his scythe.

As if cheating boys and girls is the epitome of universal pain? There's raping, cancer,and machete parties going on right now but heaven forbid Jilted Americans and Western Tomboys get their feelings hurt at some Rave bash in a barn out in the boondocks. 

How do we even quantify pain? 

I just belittled yours as if I could quantify it. I can't.

You have no idea of the weight I carry 

because I've been issued temporary grins for the weekend. 

My past runs a boot camp for idiots and 'Az Zoles' who keep enlisting in an unforgiving army. 

Everyday some dense relative opens their mouth 

and then I'm getting beat 

with soap bars wrapped in sheets all over again. 

I don't know pain?

You do?

Is that sexy?

Strangers who've been toyed with and sullied and burned with phobias and complexes?

Is that what passes for attraction now?

Is the 'fawking' vampire craze over and we're binge watching how the hurt get horny?

Okay, I'm saying too much because I know better. I know more than most.

It doesn't make me better, it makes me worse.

I know the routine but I'm falling all over the place.

I know the only way to trap a genuine smile is to trick the people around you.

Make them laugh and put on your best face. Be polite and see silver linings in the most onyx soaked nightmares and they'll trust you. Those lucky bastards will get to see your true light and even touch it. A light you can't ever hear or hold yourself. They do and when they smile, you can study those smiles and see what the real ones look like up close. They take your breath away because there's not a single trace of molestation, or alcohol abuse, or abandonment, or police brutality, or divorce, or forced isolation, or drugs, or turf wars, or infidelity, or mental migraines, or surgeries. 

Real smiles are snowflakes delivered in cotton balls

Real smiles are soft lights emitted from low wattage light bulbs.

Real smiles, I had a few saved up for next year 

but Mary you're stealing them one by one.....

And that sucks because you are a different kind of Gorgeous. 

Little laves of Olympian rain cascade over your person like shadowy sunlight offerings from the woods.

I carried a torch for you through gasoline cornfields hoping to be close to you.

How can we all be going insane at the same time?

Even more terrifying is maybe we're all born crazy 

and getting sane means dying on our birthday!

What's it all for you Beautiful fool? If my pain brings you happiness,

will you then keep me in a cage and root for me to fail?

College degrees and Denim Capris are all that's left of you...

Mary, pain is a best friend in the midnight hours when I sleep alone 

but during the daylight I choose to travel light.

Optimism is a hard crystallization on the tongue and the swallows are torture.

I can't make my pain grand, just to impress you 

because it's shyer than Leprechauns.

I like it that way. I like not letting it lead the way.

I like sharing it honestly but giving it no more power than it already has.

I'm upright so my broken soul is invisible to the crowd.

And Mary I keep it that way because catching real smiles is hard to do.

Especially when everyone is hurting in their own blue.

But I'm not putting on dark eyeliner or renting my favorite jeans.

One emotion can't rule them all.

So when you and your friends grow up and start eating again

then maybe we can share something real and not synthesized.

Well look at that Mary, I've got a few fake grins left over from last weekend.

😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊