I take bullets by mouth.
White and round and oblong and square
Poison.
You want me sterile
Until you decide
What to plant inside me.
I’m just a woman
With hips and lips
And the balls to decide
What to put into my mouth.
Washing down the small white dose is
My ritual cleansing of
Psychopathy and
Your possessive expectations.
And then I breathe
Pure thoughts
Released by these
small bullets of freedom.
LROSE
Love and Hatred
Dance
My chest heaves with thier
Pounding steps
The image clears
I see
Joy and Hatred are the same person
And Apathy another enemy
Fuck
I just can’t process
Clarity passes again
Electronic colors in wave
And the unnatural whir
Of the fireplace insert
I can’t crack this shell without dying
Gauzy wings vibrate,
Norepinephrine’s flight.
Her stinger penetrates,
Norepinephrine’s fight.
Tell you about myself?
What do you want to know?
Look at my instagram
Happy in each photo.
Or do you want statistics?
Name, age, date of birth?
The city I was born in?
Amount I’m worth?
How about some letters
At the end of my name?
Or high school, colleges,
What I became?
Or the juicy ones
That you’ll spread around?
Bipolar Type 2, Pure Obsessive,
Chronically down.
I don’t think you understand.
You can’t SEE me.
You can’t tell who I am,
By my degrees.
Not by email,
Not by text,
Not by picture,
Or what I do next.
I’m not who I was,
Nor who I am now.
Or what you see:
What I allow.
You have to talk to me
You have to learn
You can’t know a person,
It’s something earned.
There is no I AM
I cannot just BE
Bipolar, these obsessions,
They’re part of me.
I’m always changing
I don’t know who I am
I can tell you facts,
But you’ll never understand.
I’ll tell you
What I think you want to hear
Because I know how you think,
I know what you fear.
-LROSE
If want to open her storybook,
You need a saw.
Get your rib spreader and your clamps,
Your scissors perhaps.
Cut her deep
Then grab between her breasts,
Her ribs open like a book.
But if you try to read her,
Try to take a look,
There’s just guts and blood and pills.
Try her eyes
There you will see
Her story waiting.
But you can’t read that either.
-LRose
Even
If you cut me open
Midline
Ribs opening like pages on a spine
My organs reveal
You still can’t see all of me
Check out my twitter for micropoetry and misc.
@redelfrose
-LRose
Excited and anticipation are not a morning.
Dry eyes, chapped lips, nausea, and dread.
Sudden awakening, grievance of my loss of unconsciousness
This cycle, is it my meds or my head?
I lose eventually. My heavy marionette moves.
Why does it scare you when I say
I have obsessive suicidal thoughts?
It’s white noise to me now.
Shifting obsessions,
fallacy of self control,
the scale controls me.
Listening to my father cry
On the baby monitor
While he sits by his father’s side
Watching him die
-LRose
I have a polar mind,
But that does not mean two.
My brain’s not half and half.
It’s more a feelings-stew.
-LRose
I Trust too easy.
In elementary school I gave away the brownie mom packed for me, if someone asked.
The kids learned to ask.
In middle school they called me a pushover.
This was my first epiphany.
In college they called me a slut because, I let boys sleep with me.
If they wanted to, why not?
Now I am a nurse, they pay me for my trust.
They trust me because
I trust easily.
A rare saturation.
Cactus spines lined with goblets
Of raindrops.
Strangers in queue.
(Prompt: The year is 2076. You have just learned that the newly elected president is not a human, and you are the only person who knows)
“I’m not human.” Said the president.
“So your birth certificate is forged?” I asked.
He sighs.
“You have to pretend to be human to be accepted in this world.” I said as I opened my kit. “Now hold still this time, you’re worse then the toddler I just saw.” I applied silver to his leg wound and applied a fresh coat of skin. I never asked how he was injured.
As I stood up I straightened my uniform and headed out the door.
“Goodnight Nurse Ruth” he said.
“Goodnight President Trump.” I said.
The panic dread,
Go ahead.
you think it will leave you?
to rest in peace?
give into,
The Panic Release.
-LRose
She dipped her toes
Into the stout
Put one foot in
Then took it out
But when she dipped
Her body in
her apathy
Turned joyful sin
Now small fingers
Are all you see
Because she drowned
In fantasy
-LRose
The door slams open with a thump, forming a dent in the cream colored wall. Laughter from wine and spirits echo from the doorway to the jacuzzi tub. Torn white frills, loose ties and frizzy hair fill the doorway, and the kempt room is slovenly invaded.
She’s beautiful, when not inebriated. I understood his lust, her skin porcelain smooth, lips cherry red. She was confident, snarky, and full of hate. Male attention was a staple to her diet (which I assume was the only thing she consumed). Dainty, the wedding dress now ate her.
I had met Stephanie in Dr. Peter’s office. A plastic surgeon with a glorious new building – stained glass windows patterned with historically beautiful women, a waiting room with leather recliners, and pretty secretaries appearing behind sliding etched glass.
Dr. Peters was a friend of my father and hired me as a secretary. On my first day I skipped into the office and said hello to a woman with a porcelain doll face, she didn’t reply immediately, then smirked “nice headband.”
I picked up the phone when it rang only to have her rip it out of my hand and slam it down on the receiver.
“I answer the phone. I talk to clients. I AM the looks.” She said. “Am I making myself clear?”
“Sure” I said.
At first patients loved Stephanie, but eventually they came to adore me. I remembered their names, birthdates, allergies, and medications. I read up on procedures and medication reactions (Stephanie rolling her eyes every time I picked up a book). And I perfected an excel program for scheduling.
Dr. Peters noticed my studiousness and let me assist him during a Rhinoplasty. Eventually he sent me to nursing school, and I began working with him in the operating room at the larger hospital across the city.
I met the dreamy Theodore there. A sales rep with a charming smile. I made him laugh. He bought chocolate, and a diamond ring.
One evening Theo and I stopped by Dr. Peter’s office. He commented on how beautiful Stephanie was. “Yeah” I said out loud. “On the outside” I thought to myself.
He invited her over for “family dinner.” She touched his arms, and displayed her cleavage.
She manipulated him, I know she did. He was kind. But she was cunning and spiteful. Months passed and my fiancé grew weary of me. In the office Stephanie made sly comments to me about the size of his dick. I found a red thong on our bedroom floor.
He felt trapped. He told me he was in love. I cried and cried, and fell into a deep depression. I told him I wanted everything to just go away. To end it all.
Theo didn’t want to look like a bad guy by rejecting me. One day he made my morning tea, which was out of character. I grew weary and went down for a nap. I never woke up.
Until today.
I appeared in a honeymoon suite. “Just Married” was spelled in rose petals and a bottle of champagne had “Theodore & Stephanie January 1st 2016” printed on it. 2016???! This morning when I had my tea it was March 1st, 2015. I turned and looked in the mirror. My lack of reflection revealed the truth.
Fuck! That mother fucker killed me! He took me seriously when I said I wanted it all to go away. Thought it was the easy way out, put me out of my misery, and become the grieving fiancé, everybody wins.
I watch helplessly as Theo and Stephanie enter the room. He throws her down on the bed, ripping her wedding dress. I’m invisible to them, always have been, literally now. Pulling him in by his collar she demands “Eat my pussy!” He laughs and obliges, then unzips his pants.
Oh hell no.
I climb on top of Stephanie, and my spirit sinks into her body, I consume her actions. Finally in control of her. I use her spindly legged slutty stilettos to kick him in the stomach. She struggles to regain will. Theo looks at her puzzled, holding his stomach, then laughs and rips her stilettos off and climbs on top of her. Inebriated she goes along with it. Always the puppet. The pretty doll.
I leave Stephanie’s body sink and sink into Theo’s. I feel his strength, his lust. I move his body to her head and make him say “part your lips.” I am the ventriloquist. She follows his orders, my orders. I thrust his dick into her mouth and plug her nose with his right hand, at first he doesn’t resist my control, until I won’t let him stop. He struggles to break free from my spirit’s control, but I am the vengeful marionettist.
Stephanie thrashes, her face turns blue and right before her doll’s eyes roll back in her head I make him say:
“Ann says hi.”
-LRose
I published this originally today for a poetry challenge at theprose.com Please click the hyperlink as the challenge also takes into account the number of views.
Deserted swing,
A pendulum.
Windless day’s
Silent metronome.
But for the scream –
Metal hooks on metal.
Years of
Delighted shrieks
Echo back as
Sirens screeching.
Abandoned park’s
Eternal wail.
I wore white.
Impressive interview.
As usual.
I make them laugh and laugh.
My patient told me, “you are great at what you do.”
A patient.
Drugs and rope, his ticket in.
Two hundred and fifty pounds lost to a shower rod.
The nurses laugh.
Can’t cope.
Weak and stupid,
Can’t kill himself right.
Not his first time
In hospital restraints.
I didn’t say,
I ate my pills for breakfast and
hid my demon today.
I didn’t say,
I’m glad my dad failed,
in the garage.
I didn’t say,
He’s too smart to
Kill himself right.
Code blue came to us,
Exsanguinating
Most experienced,
I led the team.
I didn’t say,
I once had a ticket.
I wore white.
-LRose
americandenial 