I’m sitting on the edge of tears.
Death by 1,000 paper cuts.
Thin-skinned.
Ankle deep in things I wish I would have said.
Chosen victim,
Fool,
Coward.
Do not be so hard on yourself.
It is brave to feel
And to love.
But it is also stupid.
Ankle deep in all the things I might say one day.
Just don’t fuck up the mood tonight, ok?
Thin-skinned.
See-through.
Blue veins.
Blue brain.
One day, I will step off this tightrope.
Maria was born In the southeast desert of California, Like the place where Walter White hides out; Like the place where Denny’s is a bar And a restaurant; Like the place where Cher is from. She had aspirations. She would not die in the desert Without being known. Without. Being. Seen. She married a man Who inherited a luxury car Dealership. She moved into his parent’s house In the dark orange sprawl Of Camancho, CA. She was, and she is The most beautiful woman In Camancho. And her husband knows it. “Wear this. Pose for me.” She’s there. In Christmas lingerie Smiling at you Beckoning you To look anywhere except for her cleavage. On the side of the 138. She is there, smiling. At home, She steps out into the navy night. She acknowledges the impatient Winter wind. She squints in the moonlight Knowing she is The Queen of Camancho.
Neurotica 