Classy Woman

She likes the view from on top.
Classy woman.
Exhausted from pretending, she strips all that is moral as the front door closes.
And while night grows longer she scowls towards the bottom of the hill.
Babbling to no one while smearing her red lipstick all over her wine glass.
She doesn’t notice and wouldn’t care if she did,
This is her bloody house!
Nails long and made for pointing,
Even the furniture inching its way towards the door.
Messy girl.
Finally, the bottle tucks her sloppy ass in with a kiss on the cheek
and lovingly whispers, 
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Photo by Larm Rmah on Unsplash

American Dream

Stay still,
Quiet down,
Stop crying,
Quit fidgeting,
Be happy,
Grow up.

A society obsessed with creatives, actors, musicians, writers, 
Yet we discourage ourselves, our family, our friends to participate. 
We even mock those creating for not having a “real” job, for not taking life seriously.
Unless the art is making lots of money then we say, “Great job, create away!”

Children, allowed only to a certain age, coloring, dancing, dressing up, all their favorites.
Then we take all that creative love they have worked so hard to nurture,
and we yank it right out from their hands and tell them “No more!”

Failure is not an option little one,
Now sit your ass down and get to work.
You will make a fantastic consumer one day,
You will make a fantastic soldier one day,

The American Dream.
Where we spend our entire lives working and making money for others with an inch of hope that we might get to visit Florida one day.  

Florida.
And we wonder why we have an epidemic of depressed adults.

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Depression, The Truth

Thoughts lag coming to an abrupt halt, heavy and hollow,
Eyes paralyzed staring at something,
Seeing nothing.
Air releases entirely from the lungs,
Taking a light head to remind me to breathe.
Body numbing, Stomach falling,
and cheeks flushed to the ghost that has just reappeared.

Snap out of it,
Stay positive.
An idea, a mistaken belief,
That this springs from nurturing negative thoughts,
That we allow ourselves to feel so much that we’re swallowed whole by the dark.

What they don’t know is that this dark,
is not dark at all,
It’s being paralyzed in the in-between,
Kidnapped in broad daylight.

What they don’t know is that it dances in ruthlessly at times when it’s least invited,
A needle slowly deflating even the most optimistic, colorful of the bunch.

The truth is,
depression,
is feeling absolutely nothing.

Can you think of anything more terrifying than feeling nothing?

It’s a suffocation that tricks you into believing you will be stuck feeling nothing forever,
That is until it finally releases its grip.

Like most things,
it comes in waves,
subtle or strong,
and in order to survive,
we have to remember to hold on tight while the worst of it passes.

Table for One

When the lights dim and the noise fades,
And your juggling that fine line of loving yourself
and thinking you’re better than others.

When all the other soldiers have gone home, 
And your about to pour that drink, turn on that show, take that hit,

Remember,
Sometimes the only person left to battle is yourself.

Bandera, TX 2019

Whimsy

What a beautiful line you balance.
Taking in the world with grace,
Gaining so much wisdom from being quiet, observant, stoic,
Only to turn around and flip all that is stiff and serious, 
a jungle gym for your pleasure.
Living between both worlds,
Never hardening, only receiving.
Softening at the perfect moments and finding room in the heaviest.

Art by Teresa Moralez