Serotonin with a side of fries, please
The writing, art, and other mental health randomness from a 40 something teacher from New Jersey.
I’m scribbling away on a chapter and all of a sudden this comes out. And it’s only the first week of September 🙂
I want to be on the Emerald Isle, with a Starbucks, a notebook and pens, my camera, and nowhere else to be. ☘️☘️☘️❤️❤️❤️
You’ve got me like ivy
climbing,
choking the walls
of my common sense
and strangling the fences
surrounding my will.
I’m Lily of the Valley,
the leaves and the bulbs,
and you are the compounds
that make me beautiful enough
to be deadly.
You’re the outstretched vines
of bleeding hearts
that look gentle enough
from a distance,
the watercolor petals hang
like soldiers on monkey bars.
But I am the trellis
that fell in the storm,
and I may not tell you why
I failed to get back up.
I am a quixotic,
sacrosanct dance,
but my memory
is nothing but piles
of bootleg regret poetry.
The future is as elusive
as a 7th place trophy,
and your ego is a sucker punch
that feels like a hard kiss.
If I am to suffer like a fool,
let me do so gently
in a well worn haunted disguise.
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after Patricia L. Goodman
You are a test of existence, T
All challenges and hopes fused together in a tight torsion.
Your presence in time didn’t tell me when to trek those mountains
or wander those twisted trails.
You are part of what I teach – tall tales about what the world
was and could be. Tattered promises and gentle lies
stirred together in a tasty soup.
For some reason you don’t keep my tires intact for too long.
Tell me it’s to keep me on my toes, to keep me
from letting everything wear down until it’s too tempestuous
to keep moving or growing into the hot, twisted mess I need to be.
T, you are the largest molecules that make tears.
Tumultuously, you are the cross I wear proudly in tantalizing storms.
Serotonin with a side of fries, please 