The Anxiety of a Paralyzed Perfectionist

How do you tell
a heart to stop racing,
a mind to stop pacing
a girl to start facing
her greatest fears?

Hopeless ruminations.
Pathological expectations.
Deep and dangerous downward spirals.

I let gravity drag me.
I let inertia keep me.
I let the whole world think that I don’t care.

When I’m numb,
it’s like I’m not even there.

And who am I?
And who was I?
And who will I be
if I let this
illness
get the best of me?

Shifting Prism

It’s red-orange-yellow time!
Passion, come burn me.

Take me high,
higher,
high as you can,

so I have something to dream to
in my next blue slumber.

Snap, Tap, and Split Into Pieces

There is a miniature man
inside my skull
tap-dancing
on my corpus callosum
to the beat of blood vessels
wrapped tight around my temples.

He is tempting my brain
to split
and let each hemisphere fend for itself.
They’re always arguing anyway.
Feel this!
No, do that!
I can’t bear to hear them bicker anymore.

So maybe the man is right.

I will compartmentalize
each reality I realize
and access only one axiom at a time.

Contradictory beliefs,
you are no longer allowed to cross paths
or even approach the bridge
to leave change
for our resident street-artist tap-dancer in-training.

He will starve to death eventually,
without your handouts
and propaganda.

It sounds cruel,
but it’s just self-defense.

I can’t find peace
in pieces.

The Meaning of Life

You’ll just know.
You’ll just…
know.

I finally know.

Intuition
like a lightning bolt,
like a realization
at the tip of my tongue
yet light-years away
and not composed of any words at all.

Reaching out to touch it,
my chest caves in
as I cross over dimensions
and break through magnetic fields.

Crushing. Imploding. Recoiling. Resounding.

The universe aligns
and I catch a glimpse
of a worm-hole
black-hole
holy grail of light.

If you open up the sun,
life as we know it
will end.

I catch my breath.

Yes.
This is it.

In the Oh!-Zone

I’m on fire!

Better stop-drop-and-roll
before this muse
loses control
and burns me to a
delectable crisp.

I’m too young
to go out like this.

Like a yellow star
suddenly turned blue,
falling fast,
making dreams come true.

All except my own.

Cuz it’s too hard to see
with a blazing sun
inside of me.

Right behind my eyes
burning through my brain.

I’m too sizzling
to be sane.

2nd Amendment, 1st Responsibility

Let’s start a revolution,
bring retribution
to the poor souls
too lost to find solution.

I say EXECUTION
to this way of life
and all the strife
we think we need
in order to fulfill our greed.

There is a system
and you’re in it
but let’s push it to the limit
to see how far
they’ll really take it
before we break it
from within.

We are the only ones,
so lift up your guns.
Even if they’re only pens.

Groundhog’s Dandelion

A cluster of vital organs
with profound prophetic potential
was planted in the dirt
twenty-six years ago today.
Nourished by a diet of
acid rain
and intermittent blazing sunshine,
a strange and unstable seedling
was born.

Here mother!
I picked you a beautiful weed!

Yes, indeed.
The dandelion is a sight to behold
in all her un-glory
and poison
and pitiful waste
of unrooted
undisciplined
potted potential.

The Bright Side

Looking up
at six-feet-under
from my own
Personal Hell,
I hope my hedonistic heart
will stop beating as well.

Thing One & Thing Two

You say life is beautiful.
So why won’t you live it?
Why do you hide in your room?

I’m afraid to find
that the greatest treasure
is also
the greatest doom.

@Yahoo!

My inbox is cluttered with junk.
Some I signed up for.
Others I didn’t.
But I hold onto them all equally.

No, I have never in my life
presented a coupon to cashier,
but you never know…
one of these days…
Well, there’s a first time for everything, right?

I’ve got folders I never move messages to.
I’ve got forwards I never will open.
And before I know it,
I avoid email altogether,
afraid of the number attached to my inbox.

Each time I’m forced to check it,
the volume overwhelms me
and I descend into a fit
of panic
and self-hatred.

Once in a blue moon,
I muster the courage
to begin checking and
choosing and
moving and
deleting.

But there never is enough time
to get it down to zero.
So it builds up again,
exponentially growing,
until it’s as hopeless as can be.

And then I create:
a New Me!

S-H-oh-two-nine-nine-nine
@GodPleaseGetItRightThisTime
dot com.