Mary X

There are times when you simply
cannot do anything.

You lay there in Medusa’s
...

There was this
Barbie-doll girl I knew
who grew
into a Barbie-doll woman.
...

Fishing for wood
on the edge of my
mattress
...

I sit in the dark niches
Alone. Even darkness reminds me
Of you. Your sweet fingers
Brushing against my neck and
...

I open up my book of thoughts
And memories, and get struck
With a whispery clatter of voices and a blowing force:
...

they told me that walking to the shop was best
done using a pair of old trainers.

that way I’d be able to walk with
...

When you hurdle
into your pit-painting
gargling with salt-water,
...

Gut through your old
torn and dog-eared
books of thoughts
and philosophies,
...

And where do the birds go
when Winter settles its spiralling hands?

And where do the worms go
...

true emotions
don’t come easily.

not when trying to express
...

did.
did.
the words.
...

Drink up.
...

you sit by yourself
all the time.
I wonder what you wonder
about
...

The dipsy blonde with glasses
Is bending over again,

Trying to re-arrange her
...

We wish with our placid eyes.
We gaze to the starry-sky to gain
attributes to new bells of freedom.
The rain isn’t going to stop falling.
...

Who remembers
the divine abortion
standing by itself looking
like a lost-girl;
...

The cats rely on me.
As soon as I open
My back door,
And put one paw onto the patterned
...

</>A series of
traumas.
Of whispers for another - dead –
are the constituent parts,
...

Considering treatment of
young minded,20-something
'seemingly' heterosexual males
who are white—confined
...

The sun outside is melting.
I suddenly find myself painting with
Pastels and inking with chalk,
...