Tonight

What do you want to do?
Keep drinking.
What are you going to do next?
Drink and look at pictures of him
What are you going to do tomorrow?
I don't know.
Hope I don't die.
Because I most certainly will go to hell.

('I love him' is the only answer I can give swiftly, and evenly to any judgement before me of my thoughts and state of mind.
And no, there is no pancetta.
And it will not help.
No, pancetta does not heal everything.)

Please, ___ go to a happier place

Please ____ go to a happier place.
A place that doesn't surprise you when you smile, for once
A place full of automatic paintings of wild flowers with watercolors
Where you can watch a movie in full without distractions
Not having to keep the same song on loop
Just because it's the only thing that made you feel, for the day
Please, ___ go to a happier place
Where you don't have to constantly think about words such as
Gas lighting
Anxiety
Pills
And
Self esteem
Where things just come automatic
Where things just come calmly
Peacefully
Without pain
Where things just come
And don't cut
They all love you
They all have troubles
Just like you
The difference is
Things are cutting into you
When like fog they could just flow past
That's what you want most
You just want a flow
A stance
A place
SOMETHING
You just want SOMETHING
AND THIS
This is not
that
Someting.

Memories and present

Me: I am going to continue to produce mediocre performance

Boss: We're going to continue producing your meager pay

Me: Agreed

Boss: Agreed

Me: You know I'll continue loosing your mail

Boss: We know.

Me: Al rightly then.

Boss: Alright.

Me: You definitely don't get me

Boss: That's for sure

Me: I'm sometimes sure you hate me.

Boss: We certainly sometimes do. By the way, that shirt sucks

Me: Anything for you.

Boss: We're going to hire someone with more experience

Me: I know I'm just not cut out to direct faxes, transfer calls and sort mail, I'm very sorry about that.

Boss: It never mattered what you think. And yes, that is a camera above your desk, we saw you picking your nose the other day. That was gross. Of all the things you could stop, please stop picking your nose. Thanks!

Me: I'll make a note of it you scum bags.

Boss: Are we through talking?

Me: I'm quite concerned you're a figment of my imagination
Boss: We're concerned you have figments of your imagination. 

Me: Alrighty then. 

Boss: We love you
Me: You make me sick.

"I'm not touching you!"

Awww
non consensual (sort of, very sort of) spontaneous, sensuous eye contact by coworkers
Adults version of "I'm not touching you!"
"I'm not touching you!"
"I'm not touching you!"
Can't tell mommy....

That's what I meant to say

They say you look at the hands of someone you love, first.
I noticed your small hands the second I met you
Sweeping down to an unannounced sweet crescendo
Mentioned to me shortly after you birthday that fall
I love you
I love you
I love you
That sweeping savior of feeling
Like transcendental  emitted peace and happiness in one moment of eye contact
In the crowd of the dying

I miss You ____ (Place I use to live)

I miss the indie channel
With all the strange international shows
That always ended up just being about sex and drugs
But with interestingly calming music and an intellectual air to it.
I miss trees,
I miss hills,
I miss moisture
Not snow
I don't like that kind of moisture
I miss friends
People I connected with
i miss happiness

Not the dog

You get to the point where you're very willing to point fingers at whose responsible for your deep, unsettling unhappiness.
is it the husband?
Is it the job?
Is it the lack of counter space?
Is it the look that one person gave me?
Is it the bad tasting wine?
The book I ruined by watching the movie?
Whose fault is it that I'm not where I rightfully should be?
Who the h does a women have to cuss out to get some happiness around here?
It sure as h is not the dog