GORGEOUS PICKLES

Ten good days after four of pain

I don’t know how it happens but I wake up after a stint of bouncing bunny rabbit

Filled with rechargeable energy like the vibrator I bought on the internet but only use sometimes because it’s one for that certain mood

Sickeningly gorgeous ate those days

Then I wake up I can feel the malice seeping back out and in

The rage comes hard

All over my face

I feel impatient

I often say it’s the world that hurts but I’ve been blissfully alone these past 4 days and woke up alone again in my own poison

It is me that’s inflammatory

Or a part of me

I can feel her coming back from her mini retreat

Perhaps a conference with the devil herself

Tonight I can’t sleep after days of 8 hours

Drifting into my unconscious with beautiful pictures

Now I lay paranoid

Pissed

The noises sound ten times louder

And my bed feels ten times grosser

Not the fluffy friend that it was last week

Temperature is off

But really very on

Hands feel stiff but I cant put my phone down or my head just spins

Screams

Sleep paralysis and a series of ten bad dreams

It’s an actual existentialism of looking at myself

Namaste with a knife through the middle

I can see her frown

She is ugly in her anger

Not the light funny sweetheart I went to bed with last night

I hate this part

The monsters coming out

I must do reps at the gym

Turn my phone off so I don’t send demented messages to boys I choose to crush

I’ve done it before

Might do it again

Malicious intent and a test in my sanity

To see if they’ll play ball and laugh with me at the unhinged nature of my 2am convulsion

This girl isn’t innocent or soft

She’s a pain in the ass

A hard motherfucker

Fatherfucker

In actuality

She’s daddy with a feminine venom

Ready to fist

Fight

Both herself her pussy and her reflection

Unhinged women are romanticised in films

Their tears pillowed

Right now I’m Betty Blue

Their pain perceived as vulnerable and sexy in an angelic kinderlich kind of way

Hysterical lunges

Skin crawling screams

I want to throw a jar of pickles across the room

Watch the sweet sour juice drip down the wall

For the bugs that I squash with bare hands to eat

Then get mad at the bugs

And cry at those pickle drips really loud

And watch a man as sweet as the pickle juice clean it up because he knows I’m Betty Blue

And I’m just too sad and tired and unable

Sweet with that sour touch you want to fuck

In real life it’s less scenic than Hollywood

Because where are those men that love the insanity

That cradle it and want it without disgrace

Without feeling castrated by my many heads

Giantess

My therapist says I have lots of rage

My mother suggests I have psychological problems

The men I kick would likely agree

Giantess in leather boots

I told her

Well

Where do you think I found such problems?

Mother of whom birthed me

Well well well!!!

And don’t you think it makes my poems gorgeous

Gorgeous gorgeous fits of rage

Tonight is the night she comes back to tickle

This could be a diagnoses

Probably for the next twenty days

She wants to eat your dad for breakfast

My mouth opens so wide

I could if I wanted to

I swear

Opening up my groomed lips to bite

Always applying layers of lipliner

A compulsion I do mostly when I’m high

But also when I’m out and anxious and

Oral fixation and restless fingers

Note and sniff before announcing affirmations in the cubicle

Tonight’s pillar of truth

Disguised as a grubby lid

Where I believe myself the most

Vogue cigarettes with a borrowed lighter

Prosecco on Prosecco

Until my teeth hurt

Because the sugar is so sugar but I just love the buzz

Do you know what I mean

I love my black leather boots

They match my agitated stomp

Let me eat you for breakfast then

It’ll feel nice I swear

Maybe I’ll be a little calmer after that

Let me mutate my heads into your warm belly

I’d love to take a nap

Nomnom numb

You love my leather boots

Let me nap inside your belly

I’ll keep them on if you like