com-FUCKING-passion

I took an empathy test and got a really high score. I feel everything.

I hate my mother.

I've come to terms with it.

"But she's your mother,

she will always be your

mother."

          Freud says I battle with her

                    to win the affection of my father...

              but she lost that all on her own.

"Have compassion"

                       I struggle:

can one hate whilst maintaining a

                                            compassionate lifestyle?

                  I feel everything.

                           Sometimes I feel her pain

                                 [the pain of losing her children] 

                               But, I also feel her 

                                                                                            narcissistic ego

        pulsating.

There is no room 

for com-fucking-passion 

there.

Red Jeep

You made me realize that even fat chicks
with huge guts and thighs and boobs
could be molested.
And now every time I see a red jeep
I cringe, thinking it's you coming back for me,
for more, for now -
I feel like you'll find me some day
and
wander back, look for the painting that you painted
on my wall, and realize that it's no longer there --
I blotted it out, like I blotted out your memories
except,
in my mind and heart, the paint has been chipped away.

I give you more power than you deserve,
I give you more power than you need.
How powerful do you feel there, up on top of the world
with all of that manliness in the palm of your hand?
That manliness with which you can dominate women
Does that make you special?
Does that make you proud and happy and satisfied
with your disgusting, loathsome life?

Why me?
she was my best friend and I trusted you
and I had to keep it a secret for almost a year

while it ate away inside of me.

"What will she think?"
"I could have stopped it..."
"I shouldn't have done that."
"I should have just left."

Well, I would-could-shoulda done something, anything
differently.. to prevent this from happening
but, it happened. And I didn't do much to stop it.
I was shocked,
frozen, not empowered, not mobile :
shaking, suddenly crazy
millions of miles of thoughts through my head
"It'll be over soon," I told myself.

Soon is not soon enough.

Cedar Box

I compiled all of (y)our memories
into a small cedar box.
The bracelet you gave me
for my fourteenth birthday --
the section of my dry-erase board
upon which you wrote,
that I would and could never erase,
the one photo we have together
from the dance [remember,
you fixed me to be the winner,
the princess.] I never felt so...
/angelic/...

My heart, in this box,
incessantly grieving, holding you close,
and closer, never having closure --
you're gone and dead,
no life is left [in the most beautiful
green eyes I've ever seen.]
And anyway, now you're gone [away]
you're simply ashes and dust
[and to dust we all return, right?]
No closure - no 'calling hours,'
nothing to solidify this feeling
and family sinking further into
the underground.

"Oh mercy me, god bless catastrophe,
there's no way in hell we'll ever live to
see through this so drive yourself insane
tonight, it's not that far away and I just
filled up your tank earlier today."