Verbal Enema

There’s always someone who’s smarter 

funnier, more prolific, quicker to the draw.

There will always be a William, Charles, or

Billy, sometimes an Emily who makes one 

feel small. 
Administering a

verbal enema

I feel the warmth of words 

swishing around and around

I need relief

I feel pressure 

I’m an IED ready to explode.
I’m sick of holding it in, of

feeling defeated; I’m walking on cracked egg shells. 

a climber who’s close to reaching the 

pinnacle, so close to touching the top then

losing my balance I slide towards the bottom

and when I’m down, I’m down, near

Hades my golden coin is nowhere to be found;

eternally misplaced, I’ll find it next to my eyeglasses

one day, I deceive myself.
Looking upwards towards the goal I

clamor , ‘what doesn’t kill me

makes me stronger’, as the wise philosopher surmised

before the snap of the bull whip brought tears to his eyes not long before

he kicked up daises from his Teutonic grave.
I raise my voice towards heaven and piercingly ask, why? 

how many prayers have I prayed? How many petitions

have been heard?

How many thank you[s], how many help me please, oh God!

Send your angels, I need to be ministered to, I need a miracle,

In a world with so visibly few.
Im ready to spill it all out, I cough out phlegm 


The porcelain goddess 

awaits convoluted stanzas, the ones

that leave rounded yellow stains,

Like the outlines in the snow after my

zipper pierces the silence and

relief is heard.
I’ve shot myself in the foot,

I’ve locked myself out,

thank you for your kindness, 

for you patience, for your condescending words.
Everyone’s edgy–I’m tired of being tired, 

I want to sleep in my ramshackle bed. 
My feet are sore, my left shoulder painfully aches

I’m falling asleep reading the synopsis 

on a Netflix movie, the tenth one I’m convinced I want to watch.

Sweet sleep makes my eyes close, it makes

me read the same paragraph over and over again,

until I shut the tablet off, and my alarm clock

wakes me up one more day, and I take one more breath,

washing the sleep off my highly caffeinated eyes;

I stare into the mirror, ‘that’s me getting older I smirk.’