Thursday, July 11, 2019

*wink*



*wink*




no more masking

said one hundred twenty three times, easily,

randomly pulling this number out of my ass,

like most things done

and or said

in my closing in on forty six years here;

no longer having to hide

I'm a bit mentally behind,

second guessing

what is meant by a lot of things,

afraid to inquire,

behind closed doors

googling simple things,

often more confused and scared

than anyone could fathom;

hell, if I said it out loud

you'd laugh—I'm so funny like that...


Popeye had his spinach

I chose 'liquid courage',

seat of my pants and ass-backward
could care less

like Pigpen's cloud of dust
high functioning drunk,
add in mental illnesses and what do you get?

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 and the Oscar goes to--
Miss Albee
AKA one hot fricken' mess...
SN: with a “killer smile” & really great hair! 
*wink*

to the untrained eye

just trying to find my way,

“What Color Is Your Parachute?”,

yeah, I had a friend gift me this is the early 1990's...



hitting my knees-literally-in 2007

screaming, what I now know to be a lament,

followed by a bureaucratic “fall from Grace” ~

tripped, without missing a step,
into the arms of God-literally-

sober, closing in on six years,

and vice free...

here's to closing in on 46 more years here
*wink*