TheCourtRose

Bro, she blocked you on social media because your temper was as short as your dick (Absolutely minuscule, evidently) 'Cause, seriously? Who is an asshole to the waiter?! A quick smile will not conceal the hatred creasing your features deeper than the napkin he forgot to bring you She left you because you scare her Really, how is this surprising at all? Testosterone pills are not considered a vitamin by the FDA (Just FYI) She cannot explain herself, because you are immune to discomfort and panic Plus, like no joke, she's really, really over explaining herself There's muscle fatigue in her jawline from justifying her existence She will never know if you had sex with her while blacking in and out (Doesn't want to know...) 'Cause what's one more Jack in a full hand already? You are still convinced of your own significance Truly, you ended up being a tiny (Ha! Tiny...) blip in a much more grandiose radar She does not under...

Today may be the day to give myself permission to walk away forever and ever from The Novel Not sure I can live there, though the Muses hand out enough fodder for a thousand word canons It's just when I sit and sit and sit and The Novel stretches on like a marathon where each runner dies- I find the compilation of words and images and figures more vulnerable than baring my soul in poetry How can a book, full of fiction, require more skin from my teeth and hair off my back than this?

Are you caught in a manic dream? I am not the pixie to save you I will not paint your walls red, or inspire you to live I cannot spare strength to rip you from that drudge-filled tank It is not my problem that your days are hazy slow or trapped in cubic routine Riding the curtail of my impulse will not redeem your mediocrity I am not your pixie I will not organize you, console you, enable the shadows that cling to your shoes There are no excuses in my wet mouth that you can hide behind You are what you have decided to be No more or less I am living my own dream If kissing me rubs light on your lips, so be it, but I'll be damned if I let you eat me alive (In response to Olivia Gatwood's poem "Manic Pixie Dream Girl" )