Two Faces
Smiling, helping everyone
Sulking, no homework done
Always cheerful, and seen hanging out
Insecure and really lonely at heart
Laughing and joking along
Crying when she’s home alone
Being there for people
when they’re feeling down
Screaming into the void
when she really needs someone.
. . .
“Do you need someone to talk to?”
“Please save me, I feel hopeless.”
“Don’t worry, it’ll get better!”
“Why am I so useless?”
“Love yourself!”
“I hate myself...”
“I’ll be here for you”
“Don’t I need someone too?”
. . .
Split personalities,
one contrasting the other.
Masking herself,
While inside, she suffers.
Regretting the past,
She puts up walls.
Dwelling on mistakes, but alas,
When will she move on?
The Ghastly Grim Girl Grows a Guileful Grin
Glory in her gloominess, the ghastly grim girl grieves on the grave
Greeting the one in the grips of Gaia, she grimaces at this heaven’s gain
Gritty gapes gnawing her guts, glints of grieve gush on the granite
And glory in her gloominess, the ghastly grim girl grieves on that grave.
Gimmicks in her garland, the grave is gravid of grumpy glows
Gritting in its gutted gain, it gawks at the girl’s gibe and juxtapose
Gratifying from her gambit, the grim girl gilds the grave in her gaiety
But there were gimmicks in her garland, that made the grave gravid of grumpy glows.
Gyps in the name of justice, the grim girl girdles the guests around her guise
With her jittery grieving gibbers, the grim girl gains their gullibility- and they galvanize
The gossip of the grave greatly grows from her gift of gab
And gyps in the name of justice, the grim girl girdles the globe around her guise.
Gallant in her grudges, the grim girl was indignant and aggrieved
Gabbling grifts on the grave’s garden in her golden guilty greave
If you wonder on what grounds the grim girl garbled the grave’s gospel
Then remember her gallant in her grudges, and that she was indignant and aggrieved.
Guilty in her glamour, the ghastly grim girl gears a glaive in her gown
Guarding the guileful guise gives way to a grave’s tale of renown
Gulling with her garish games glories the grim girl’s gleeful gamble
And guilty in her glamour, she gears the glaive in her gown.
A gruesome grisly groove, from the glaive the gullet had been glid
Gone the ghastly grim girl, now gazed at the gore and grinned
The graceful giddy ghoul had gamboled in a gust
From a gruesome grisly groove, in which a gullet had been glid.
A gazette that gourmandises green, guarantees the grim girl to be guileless
Gauging her grieve and gauche gait, they guarantee the grave a greedy guess
They may have gainsaid genuine justice, but the grim girl garnered no grafts at all!
It’s just that the gazette gourmandized some green, and gained her to be guileless.
Glory in her gloominess, the ghastly grim girl now grieves on the grave
Greeting the one in the grips of Gaia, she giggles at this heaven’s gain
Generously glitzing her guileless grieve, she glows in galore
And glory in her gloominess, the ghastly grim girl grows a grin on the grave.
Standing After Your Barrel Broke in Niagara Falls
I just remember feeling numb when I first realized I was heartbroken. You never notice, at least I never did, until it hits you like a piano that fell out of an airplane. I think I started to break at work when I was filling the spinach tray at the salad bar. We talked about spinach. You always think of the stupidest shit, at least I always do, once you start falling. You find some random page and let your eyes wander. We talked about his dislike for spinach, laughed at me mistakenly grabbing vegan butter instead of real butter, joked about him throwing away clothes since he didn’t know how to do laundry. My eyes were watering before I realized it, and I ended up lying to my coworker that we needed more croutons and rubbing my eyes raw next to the salad cooler.
It’s one thing to get dumped. I’ve been dumped before and dumped people before. It stings a little, like when you pull off a long-stuck adhesive and spend the whole time your skin is burning touching the damn thing, and wondering when it will stop hurting. It’s another thing to learn you never had a chance. To feel unworthy, even if it’s no one’s fault. To know that even when you knew getting too close was risky, you fell off that cliff and now you’re paralyzed, pissed at yourself because you just had to go look to see what was down there.
It’s no one’s fault. That’s my mantra now. That and counting the ways this was a good thing. I’ve found quite a few. I can write things that aren’t centered on him, there’s no little jolt of joy when I hear my phone followed by the longing for him to come back, I’d feel nothing if he came walking back in once I answered the door and would happily close the door once he decided to leave again. Still, he seeps in my mind from time to time (Exhibit A - writing about him again), but it’s happier times. Me and the person he killed to become his optimal self. That guy taught me a lot. Taught me that drunken love can feel real, that I can find someone that will go above my already high demands, that I can have a genuine connection with someone.
It hurts still; otherwise, I wouldn’t have stuck my face near the onions and said they made me cry when my coworker came to check on me. But, I’m well past the very bottom of the hill, and I’m only going up from now on. One day, I’ll find the man of my dreams, and I hope he will too.
withdrawal
now, i've never had a tendency to alcohol or addicted to nicotine.
but without her i felt like i was missing what i had been leaning on for so long.
shaky, unstable, falling and falling.
falling down instead of in love.
i missed her,
but i never cried.
i was numb, mourning for the feelings that were ghosting me, leaving and just beyond reach-
i could never reach them again .
during heartbreak,
your heart beats fast (from trembling)
your stomach is eating at itself (from anxiety, regret, anger)
your palms are sweaty (what did i do wrong? how did i mess up?)
you can't speak straight (memories demand your full attention)
it's funny,
all the withdrawal symptons from heartbreak feel a lot like butterflies and their entourage.
Take Her to the Moon for Me, Okay?
“Take her to the moon for me, okay?” Spike asked while slurping cold ramen off chopsticks.
“Man, Spike, why don’t you take her yourself?”
“I would…was going to… but-“
Spike stirred his cold noodles and stared into the chipped bowl. His friend, more accurately, partner in crime stood behind him and scratched at the crotch of his spacesuit waiting for Spike to finish his answer.
“You just couldn’t man up and do it yourself, huh.” said Roscoe.
“Yeah, but…” protested Spike feebly.
“Yeah but, yeah but. Yeahbuts live in the woods man…or at least they used to. Rosco looked out the space station portal down at Earth as if he could see any Yeahbuts hopping through the woods.
“Listen dude, you just don’t know how hard it is, I can’t seem to live with her and heck if I can’t live without her. She’s so messy and never shuts up, something has to change.” Spike threw his chopsticks on the table and lowered his bubble helmet solar visor.
“You know that old commercial slogan, man” Roscoe reminded, ‘JUST DO IT’. “
“Yeah, easy for you to say, you didn’t have to live with her, you don’t have a dog in this fight. So don’t give me that crap.”
“Look man” Roscoe tried to wipe at his nose but his helmet prevented him, “This was your problem to begin with. You were advised by the agency not to bring her along. And besides, my freight weights are checked very closely, one ounce over my limit and I’m dry docked until the next Earth launch. I can’t make any money that way.”
“Ok, ok, Roscoe, I can’t take her constant chatter anymore, I’ll pay you a thousand credits to haul her to the moon this cycle. Just drop her off there, someone else is sure to take her in.”
A small meteor the size of a wheel of Swiss cheese streaked past the space station. The two men didn’t speak for a few minutes, silently weighing their choices. Roscoe craned his neck in a circle and scrunched his lips together, trying not to voice his decision. Spike turned and faced his roguish friend wearing a basset hound expression. Roscoe couldn’t hold his answer any longer.
“Man, you beat all. You DO remember I was the one that brought you two together, right?” Spike nodded his head and tried to wipe his eyes, but the bubble helmet prevented him and a tear dropped deep down into the cavity of his spacesuit.
“Ok Spike, you’re definitely going to owe me man. Bring her to the dock in an hour and I’ll hide her in cargo. And if I get audited at the moon base, I’m rattin’ you out man. Believe it!”
“Sure, no problem Roscoe. We’ll be there in an hour. Thanks, thanks a lot buddy.”
“Dang straight you will, man.”
The two spacemen went their separate ways in the station’s gravity tunnels. A small coronal ejection from the sun spit at the slowly twirling spaceport. An hour later Spike entered the cargo hold of Rosco’s ship.
“Now remember, she likes crackers and if along the way you could maybe talk with her a little, softly, you know, give her some love?”
Roscoe grabbed the covered cage out of his friends hand.
“Gimme that dang parrot man.”
“Her name is Lucille.” Spike admonished.
“Just gimme that yakking bird, man.”
#flashfiction #sci-fi #humor #spacemen #spacestation #williamcalkins
Encores are for people who can’t let go
I’m the chosen one,
The hero,
The protagonist,
The subject of the prophesy,
The seer of sights and receiver of messages,
The one who slipped through a secret portal,
The one who found something,
The one who was told,
"It’s up to you to save the world!"
As if it was a good thing,
to
be
singled
out.
I burned down my metaphorical house when I was born,
And since then,
I’ve burned down millions more.
My world is already ashes.
That’s the point, isn’t it?
You build the block tower, admire it, and knock it down,
Revelling in the crash and tumble of clattering wood.
It’s up to me to save the world,
Maybe because I know it’s not worth saving.
It had its time on the stage, and now the curtains are waiting to
Close.
So here I am,
Waiting in the wings,
Hand on the rope,
My eyes trailing up the pulley,
Head tilted in the dark,
Fingers tightening,
Muscles contracting,
And with just one tug,
And another,
And another,
The curtains sweep across the border and
With just one press of a button
The lights go down,
And with just one smile into the darkness,
"I guess the world is doomed, then."
And the house lights come up.
And the audience disperses.
And after the actors take off their makeup,
And the band packs up their instruments,
And the crew tidies everything away,
We’ll disperse, too.
Leaves on the wind.
The tree has died, and now it’s our turn
To find out where we go when we decompose.
The ABC’s of Donald Trump
A-Is for being an AWFUL ARROGANT ASSHOLE an AUTHORITARIAN AUTOCRAT to which you take great pride
B-Is for your BOORISH BELLICOSE BIGOTED BRUTALITY inflicted on others with the GOP on your side
C-Is for you leading a CRUDE, CULPABLE CRIMINAL, CRUELITY CULT because your CRASS CONTAGIOUS CRIMES are without compare
D-Is for your DISGUSTING, DIVISIVE, DESTRUCTIVE, DEMAGOGUERY, you’re a DANGEROUS DIABOLICAL DERANGED DEGENERATE, and DELUSIONAL because respecting truth is something which you seem to be unaware
E-Is for your ENLARGED EVIL EGO because you are a EMBARRASSING example of that
F-Is because you're a FOUL FOOLISH FIEND who pretends that he’s not FAT
G-Is for your heart in the GUTTER, the GESTAPO ways, displaying your GRANDIOSE sense of self-importance, and your GREED for all things GOP and GOLD
H-Is for HATEFUL, your a HEARTLESS HATE-filled soul, you are the spirit of HITLER, whose loyalty has long been sold
I-is for your INEPTITUDE and INSINCERITY in being an INSULT upon humanity, and an ILLEGITIMATE President who needs to be IMPEACHED as you are only INTIMIDATING as The-IDIOT-in-charge
J-Is for being such JACKASS an exemplary JERK so large
K-Is for the fact that you’re a Nazi loving KLU-KLUX-KLANer trying to make America Arian White
L-Is for LOWLIFE, LOUDMOUTH you drained the swamp then hired the dirtiest scum from the bottom of the Right
M-Is for being the MALICIOUS, MALIGNANT, MISOGYNISTIC MORON that you are
N-Is because your a NARCISSISTIC NAME-CALLER whose NEPOTISTIC NONSENSE is heard afar
O-Is for your OBESE ORANGE body shape and color
P-Is for the PHONY POMPOUS POLARIZING POISONOUS POLLUTING, PATHOLOGICAL, PUTREFACTION spewing from you like no other
Q-Is because you are an incompetent QUACK, a foreign operative and a traitorous hack
R-Is for your RUSSIAN buddy Putin, because you’re a RUDE, REPULSIVE, REVOLTING RED REPUBLICAN RACIST who goes on a crazy RAVING RAGING RANTS on Twitter
S-Is because you’re a COVID-19 SUPER SPREADER, who has SOLD-OUT to SATAN, you’re SOULLESS SONOFABITCH with your SLIMY, SICKENING, STUPID policies and SLURS that belong flushed, along with you down the SHITTER
T-Is for your TERRIBLE, TREASONOUS, TREACHEROUS, TOTALITARIANISM which embodies the TURDY TURKEY that you TRULY are
U-Is for being the most UNETHICAL, UGLY, UNCOUTH, UNAmerican President ever, because you have lowered the honesty and integrity bar
V-Is for your sickening VANITY, and the VICIOUS, VILE, VULGAR ways you attack your opposition
W-Is for the WANKER WEENIE WART you are, who behaves like a WHORE in your position
X-Is for your XANTHODONTAL smile, you're a rotten XYLOPHAGOUS, a XENOPHOBIC hater of diversity and others of different races and gender
Y-Is because you’re a YELLOW, YAKKING YAHOO, who is a greedy taker, not a lender
Z-Is for ZIP, which is certainly your true worth, you are a worthless ZERO and that Mister Trump, is the truth!