Here's a bullet, and here's my gun.

I can't help but play Russian Roulette with you.

You know my triggers

I trust you to not pull the right one.

Sigh

Put your lips close to mine

As long as they don't touch

Out of focus, eye to eye

Till the gravity's too much

And I'll do anything you say

If you say it with your hands

And I'd be smart to walk away, but you're quicksand

This slope is treacherous

This path is reckless

This slope is treacherous

And I like it.

I can't decide if it's a choice

Getting swept away

I hear the sound of my own voice

Asking you to stay

And all we are is skin and bone trained to get along

Forever going with the flow, but you're friction

This slope is treacherous

This path is reckless

This slope is treacherous

And I like it

Two headlights shine through the sleepless night

And I will get you and get you alone

Your name has echoed through my mind

And I just think you should know

That nothing safe is worth the drive 

and I will follow you home

This hope is treacherous

This daydream is dangerous

This hope is treacherous

Two headlights shine through the sleepless night

And I will get you, get you alone

Your name has echoed through my mind

And I just think you should, think you should know

That nothing safe is worth the drive 

and I will follow you home

This slope is treacherous

 I like it

deep shit

Sinking deep
down
trapped, and no matter how much I
struggle. Only further into the mess
I know I myself have created.

But the warmth, it calls to me.
envelopes me and wraps me in
a cocoon of promises.

I know, when I can still think
I can tell
I'm not going anywhere. Just sinking.
but the warmth
and support
and comfort -
although false -
feel so very good.

temporary at best
a mess for certain

Yet here I am.

Cowardly Lion

What if the cowardly lion had been a zombie cowardly lion, and he had to eat the brains and hearts of men to survive? A brave lion would simply rip the hearts and brains right out of men: the munchkins, the hunters and lumberjacks of Oz.  The Lollipop Guild would have been devoured before the beginning notes of their second chorus.  But a cowardly lion, he'd have to do things a little differently.  He wouldn't have the fortitude to take the life of men. He'd be forced to forage for alternatives, to seek out the next best thing - the local mutants. Not quite men, certainly, and not yet falling into any other category either.  The Lion would binge on bits and pieces of these mutant-men, leaving their remaining organs left behind in the carcass.
Perhaps, namely, the heart of one and the brain of another?

Anal?

No No NO People. Not THAT kind of anal.

OCD, perfectionism, etc. You know, anal.

So, sometimes I'm anal about stuff. Is that so bad? Everything has a place, and everything should be in it's place. Organization is never bad, right?

Of course, being so requires, especially with three children to mess things up, time to care for the order of things. Replace items where they go, ensure things are left as they should be. If you take something out of its spot, just put it back when you are done with it. This shouldn't be difficult, right?

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not the kind of mom that won't let her kids have fun and enjoy childhood for the sake of cleanliness. Fun and silliness comes first, but afterwards order should be returned. Wow. That statement alone sounds like it should come from a drill sergeant.

My children know this about me, I've always been this way. Somehow, however, my 14 yr old has decided to rebel against this part of our household rules and regulations.  I cannot for the life of me get her to keep her room clean.  Punishment doesn't work. Taking away things from her - i.e. cell phone, laptop - doesn't seem to work. The only way the girl's room ever gets cleaned is when I do it myself. Clothes sit in the laundry basket until I have to scream at her to take care of them, belts and shoes and socks and whatever else she might remove scattered on her dresser, her bed, her floor, sometimes even the bathroom floor.  Trash never gets taken out of her room, and she won't even place it in the small trash can she has in there. I don't know what to do to make her understand how completely crazy this makes me.

Then my mother comes along, and laughs, and tells her: "You know, your mother never would clean her room when she was your age either."

Thanks, Mom.

Pendulum

I just finished crying my eyes out. Feels refreshing.  My life has felt like a major cluster fuck lately and I think maybe I just needed to get out some frustration. Car accident, holidays, money issues, job issues, home issues... and today I added to all of that with a new car. and a new hefty car payment. Its a nice car, I love it.. but probably should have settled for something a little more inside my price range rather than hovering just this side of sleeping-on-the-streets broke. But.. it definitely has the room we need, and the safety ratings and warranty that I demanded. I'm very happy with it.

Yeah, I'm screwed. 

Passive Aggressive

Up and Down
Back and Forth
Here and There
No fucking where.

What's wrong with me, you ask?
What's wrong with you, I reply.

You know me. I've not changed.
Perhaps you should look backwards
Or maybe that's the problem.
Forward may be the direction for you
Momentum carrying you on continuously
whilst you long to go backwards

The top of the hourglass is busted
It can't be flipped over
sand only moves in one direction

Grieve and move on
Or rather
Accept the changes
Embrace them and shift with time

Nothing is wrong with me.
What about you?