To Be Unreal

No one will know what it's like to be out of phase with this plain of existence. To have stepped slightly to the left of reality and thus to feel unreal. It feels like an electrical cable driven into your guts constantly zapping you; rippling buzzy zip and zaps of nervous enegry through you. It's like having bees under your skin all the time. Like rivers of electrofied water in your veins. Nothing feels right. You're just not sure you are here. You feel like you might disappear any minute. Tune out like a fuzzy picture on an old TV.

I wake up like this.
I walk through life like this.
I pretend I'm fine.

But I'm just that little bit out of focus. Slipping between the slats in reality and something.... else.  Buzzing on the edge of electric waves trying to pull me to pieces. I feel unsteady. Unstable. Not quite here. Not sure I'm actually alive. Like I need an anchor. Like I need you to hold me down and tell me I'm really real. Make sure that I don't slip down those cracks to somewhere else. Make sure I don't just fade away.

Please hold me down before they pull me out of here.

Stupid

Sometimes you just need someone to acknowledge your existence and prove that you are actually rooted in this reality.  You need fingers running through your hair as you cry bitter useless tears for no good reason. You need calming breath in your ear and gentle words tickling your neck.

Sometimes I am such a stupid girl.

Ugly Girl

I was not born pretty but purple and choking. I've spent a life time trying to be beautiful and failing in your eyes. I have no soft personality nor a small waist. I ooze into the space around me. I fill it up. I am ugly. A wicked witch on the outside of the outsiders. I never really belong. Not in your bed. Not in your head. I am never enough.

I twist all ugly. My spine has bent. My insides have ruptured and turned on me. I have spread. My belly hangs limp and my breasts sway as I walk. I am heavy with unwanted thoughts and ugly love. My own mind revolted and held me down under water. I drown in a world that seeps beauty out your skin and the looks people give me when they see me kiss you.

Why can't I be beautiful?
Too difficult to love.
Too crooked to follow.
Too hard to understand.

Bury me in your smile and keep my bones in your throat. Tell them about the homely girl you used to fuck and how tiring she became. I'll be waiting twisted just under this purple ugly world.

Foolish

I try. I really do. But I'm kind of an idiot when it comes to these things.

Monster Tongue

Everyday I step up to the mirror and peer to the other side. That big monster is always waiting for me with a lulling grin, waving excitedly at me. It's long tongue slips out its mouth to moisten its lips revealing razor sharp teeth and red gums. It looks hungry. It looks right at me. Slowly flutters its long eyelashes. Blows kisses at me through the reflective glass. Teases and flirts all ravenous; its tummy grumbles expectantly.

I would hide, but I'm rather hungry myself.