screw it. screw it ALL.

of all times. seriously. not the kind of "seriously" that's said with a lisp and a rolled eye, hand on hip, with the 'wow' statement that somehow turns into a four-syllable word. ah-woww-uhh. put your best valley girl impression on and then take it right back off because we won't need it from here on out. just wanted you to get the idea of what i'm NOT saying.

i'm talking the "seriously.." that has really lost all humor in the situation. that means it's gone FAR, folks. i found dead cat parts in the woods the other day. perfect face of a cat with nothing else attached to it. i ran after naomi with it hanging from a stick i scavenged. i can LAUGH at lots and lots. LOTS.

and it's not the pissed off, raving, piss-raving mad kind of "seriously.." either. or an impatient kind. it's kinda like those times when i griped at mom for taking forever in a clothing store or something. and when she'd make me stick my foot under the dressing room door so she'd know bad guys hadn't gotten me yet. she'd try on stuff for way longer than my attention/behaving span could tolerate. 4 minutes. and i'd get anxious. and cue same story only in a grocery store. she'd make me keep my hand on the cart. and then i ran away and got lost in the produce and cracker section and she'd be SO PISSED at me. and then one time, back in the clothing store, i ran away from mom again and hid in one of those round clothing racks. i was hiding in there and i could hear her calling my name. and i wanted to stick it out and REALLY hide but i kept getting scerrder and scerrder and eventually i couldn't take it---my butt was on the line. literally. i believe in spanking. shoot me.---so i ran out from the clothing rack. caught half the thing as i tripped out from the rack and the ENTIRE. ENTIRE. rack of clothes collapsed. and THEN.

ya. i was real scerrd. ain't no goin back and ma totally saw that.

so, then, after years of those types of incidents, i learned that i had to wait and stay by mom. and even when i reached my breaking point (8 minutes) i'd STICK IT OUT because otherwise. um. badthingswouldhappen. haha mom's a good mom. taught me everything i know. except for the things gramma taught me. and dad. and bob the dog. whatever. so, it's like you're content with waiting because you know if you hurry yo-self up and out, the consequences are gonna suck. take out the mom-metaphor or analogy, idk...mom-metaphor made an alliteration so i chose that. TAKE it outta that context and put it in the opposite of fake life.

real life.

k. and it's just like.. psh. yeahh... my way sucks. always does. even if i get myself happy as a lark there are bee bee guns with pellets a-flyin and i'm and WORLD'S EAAASSSSSSSSIEEEEESTTTTTT target. every time. least it feels like every time. i'm a poof of feathers (lark feathers...a lark's a bird, right?) whose body has suddenly been obliterated and wasted by a punk-what? kid who just impressed his buddy with his wicked shot and aim. jerk's gotta sight on the thing. cheapshot. but whatever! the shot's good and i was in the way..in the way that i chose to stand in and sing happy ignorant tunes in until i got choked by a fricking metal ball the size of a pea i got stuck up my nose once. little smaller. but no matter.

so. yeah, i'm irritated. and YES, i eat lots of mint chocolate chip ice cream cuz heeyyy heyyyy!!! i bought it one time and still have some left over. SCORE. and i'll be pissed at memories i thought long gone. crazy how that works. not sure it's healthy. anyway. (not really. attention being paid to that..) but for serious. seriously, i don't like this and seriously? it feels old. and seriously? i want jesus to step out of the grocery store and give me a hug and sticker for being such a good girl inside. as if i was.. but still. no condemnation for those who love him. ILOVEHIM!! (waving hand in the air, going "OHH oHH!!! PICK ME!" yes. your mental picture was correct) but anyway. i'm discovering how much i crave affirmation. and when i'm done and hanging for that high five that eternity's keeping for me (what a terrible idea. i want my high five NOW. assuming i'll get one. i haven't been doing anything awesome lately that makes me feel like a good person wracking up those blessings in heaven....but still. can i just have a high five?)...

i want affirmation and i'll run to the world to get it but screech and halt cuz that idea sucks and then i'll go back and sing misty edwards' "my soul longs for you and nothin else will do"...nothin and no one. so stop lookin for luvvv in all the wrong placesssss. not even the love stuff. just in general stuff. maybe i should buy a pack of stickers and start awarding people "good job!" and "you're neat!" instead of getting irritated and frustrated and kinda really mellow when i don't have a welcoming committee applauding me every time i force myself to walk away from the cupboard that holds the peanut butter that has a narrow alley yet to fill in my arteries. self. control. and this isn't about eating right, either. haaaa. it's not about anything. it's just about everything.

and by the way: parents shouldn't give their kids allowances because then when the kid's not affirmed with cash or applause or something cheery and cute, then they won't be gungho for doing what they should when they should JUST because they should.

i found this in conducting a test group of people i never met nor hired to conduct a test study on. basically, i don't know what i'm talking about... but. i think the big man, daddy-guy, God is teaching me that it's okay to do what's right and do what i'm supposed to do just because i need to. and when i pout and stomp my feet and hide in the produce section---he doesn't cave. this guy's got a spine and he's not shaken by my tantrums. "good for him," i'd say if the case in point weren't myself. but whatevs. i am the case in point. and seriously. god means business. even when all i've got to say is screw it.

screw it all.

i'll be honest the only reason i put that last part is because it ties back to my title. i really don't see how that made sense in context. i guess it could make sense. nevermind. i'm done caring about whatever it is i get worked up over when words and stuff don't fit right. i don't even care. kbye.

is it a walk to remember if i'm sitting down?

okay, yes, never be my friend again, yes. i'm okay with that. completely understandable.
i might totally be watching 'a walk to remember' right now.
which means i intentionally TOOK TIME to look it up on the internet for a place i could watch it free. and now, after having watched 72 minutes of movie a blurb popped up saying i had to wait 30 minutes before proceeding to watch the rest of my overly, holy crap, SO overly sappy. and fast-moving, i might add. MOVIE.

first off, i saw bits and pieces of this movie when one of my older sisters was in high school and had friends over to watch it when it first came out.

let me tell you. this movie is painful. one of those where you analyze the situation playing out in the movie, then think of the most embarrassing and/or predictable line the next actor could say and then find yourself with your hand slapped up against your forehead because you can't stand the sentimentality that just happened and the predictability in which it happened. then i look over my shoulder to make sure no one knows i'm watching this movie because oh-my-wow it's so cheesy. and then i proceed to watch intently.

my thoughts thus far: of COURSE she has leukemia. as if mandy moore wasn't playing a damsel in distress already. next: i can't believe he just told her he loved her. oh my word. my hand. it's on my forehead and i LITERALLY feel embarrassed for the guy because it's so awkward! and that's after he danced with her at the fancy shmancy restaurant after she asked him...give him credit, he rejected her offer at first. but then upon being asked, "do you wanna dance?---brace yourself...this is painful..he shakes his head 'no' then she says--.... for ME?" and HE. CAAAAAVES. SICK--i can't believe she just said that. dancing? awesome. but the line? terrible. TERRIBLE. and then he strokes her hair and kisses her and like all logic tells, he says he loves her. PERSONALLY, i would prefer the guy tell me loved me before kissing me. talk about set the situation up for me to feel OBLIGATED to enhance the "moment" by telling what's-his-face that i love him, TOO--oh what a coincidence... but i'm a kill joy. but i mean, for real, what happens if she kisses him because he smells good and is nice to her and then he tells her he LOVES her and then she plays 'hard to get' but confirms that she feels the same way by kissing him back and THEN she wakes up the next day and thinks to herself: "hmm. yeah, i really don't think i like him. shoot. kissed him. liked THAT. but. um. i ain't so sure bout this boy."  and then there's hard feelings and blaaaa bla blaaaaa bla blaaaaaa. realities that aren't covered in this movie..

and p.s. i saw the previews for this movie before the actual tape started rolling and...i'm really thinking these last 40 minutes are going to be just as bad as the first 72. oh. but WHY. whyyyyyyyy can't i stop watching this movie?! it's like when me and naomi would watch mary-kate and ashley and those girls fell in love EVERY SINGLE MOVIE. because their lives and relevance on the screen would be nothing without a hot boy from the beach or spain. basically meaning, the guy had to have a tan or an accent. then they were good to go for a summer courtship with the olson twins.

but. i AM going to finish this movie. and laugh about how pathetic it is with whoever will laugh with me later. all the while knowing that deep down inside i love it. because i think it's hilarious. and i just really SHAMEdly LIKE super cheesy movies sometimes.

my gag reflex and peeked interest can interact simultaneously.

my 30 minute wait time is up. SCORE.

mary lied.

interesting train of thought. who can deny? everyone. anyone can deny it. but it's written on the sidewalks of the UNI campus which begs me to believe that people are wondering.  i'm sick of questions not getting answered. i'm sick of phrases like "jesus loves you" being written underneath the colored chalk that used to draw hopscotch and four square but now is put to use for attack and question, philosophy and religion, reason and rights: why none and all should have them. chalk is the conduit for freedom on this campus and it SCREAMS, i tell you. literal volume that screeches in the ears of its opposition whose only defense is to muffle the noise with an overlap and a flower. and maybe a smiley face. depending on how bubbly they feel today. jesus loves you!

which is true. but.

the love of jesus isn't really the case in point. whether or not the virgin mary fricken whored around and got knocked up by someone other than the holy spirit IS. it's a question of whether or not people of varying genders are DOING OKAY. it's a question of whether or not the bible is true because I KNOW we all wanna know.  and you can prove that the bible is consistent with itself--people do it all the time--but that's not helping necessarily the question of its divinity because THAT'S the seed that's gonna sprout a life changed.  prove to me that this life is worth living and don't INSULT me with your weekly prayer meetings, time and place, smiley FACE drawn oh so fourth grade-like when i'm LOOKING for someone to take me on and take the time it'd take to get. to. know. me. and then to see that i want my questions answered.  same as everyone else on this campus, city blocks wide that are all-consumed with academia and bills but are left still oozing with questions that mess up their minds like their laundry after they run out of quarters.  i tried hard for that analogy.

what i'm saying is that it bothers me that we've got nothing better to say then that. then 'jesus loves me and you do, too".  and cue mental picture of satan drawing a needle, shoving it in our brain and injecting novacane so that no thought comes to conclusion and no question is raised higher than the ground its written on.  so, i'm sorry all y'all that have legitimate questions. hard questions that might sink a little deeper and effect you a little more than a chalky pink or blue can justify. questions that some christians have stepped over; pissed that people "can even WRITE that and where's my scrub brush and warm water, i'll have this gone in no time."

so. did mary lie? i say no. is that a good question? yes. do i have a paper trail proving i'm right? not off-hand. do i reject the idea that jesus loves gays and bi and trans? no. he totally does. do i question if the church can handle a debate in which the opposing side is INTELLIGENT?

yeah.

this one's different, i promise.

there's something like freedom calling my name
and get your grocery bag in the back of the car
this ride's bumpy, not entertainingly
sometimes, more like, drainingly
p.s. the bag is for puking if you get nauseous
but i feel like i'm pretty okay under pressure
depending on the pounds per square inch
i'm referring to actual pressure here
no pun about losing weight because i think girls are way too focused on
losing more and more and more
when really
if we'd all just stop and decide it's okay that we're all not
perfect
and the fact that my ears are more lopsided then something that's really lopsided
doesn't matter
maddening if you think about it.
top models are airbrushed and what are we trying to prove?
again?
remind me cuz sometimes this gets hazy in my mind
but the haze drifts over the road and we're back to the top
that bumpy road that i'll slap the narrator if they call it 'life'
but it's so beautiful
some, iiiiiii, call it lots of other things depending on lots of things
but you know why my life's not working?
cuz i'm under this junk, white t-shirt, grease stains all over because
i can't figure out where each part goes and i'm
OBSESSED
sometimes with the details because sometimes i wanna make a show out of
'woe is me. i haven't figured it out yet. despair. agony!'
bull!
this holy spirit, i feel, is way underworked in my department
cuz i claim OCD before i submit to something i can't see but i HEAR
is great with people.
ask so many questions and stress myself out
KNOWING that i'm good with whatever
but for some REASON i don't care but DO to know
stupid.
satan's totally trying to convince me i'm someone i'm not
totally not
not in my job description
jesus
jesus
he gave me a new one
and um. i quit a long time ago, sooo.
jesus? yeah? ok let's go.

burlap itches. please, it's not necessary.

every time satan wants to screw you over and make you want stuff you don't have/aren't supposed to have or whatnot.. read your bible. or do something obviously constructive. i've found letting a thought of discontent stew for more than a second causes it to turn into a stinkin pot of BOILING crap that makes you hate your life.

totally unnecessary.

because down in, you really might be a happy person. you totally  might have joy potential just under the surface. and cue this: that'll piss satan off. he'll be taking that away just as soon as possible. so. god knows the desires of your heart. take comfort. uh. satan does, too. isn't that nice. he'll throw a noose around your neck but you'll be the one that hangs yourself. if you love jesus then the only thing satan can do is tempt you. not force you to think or sulk in anything.

so, yep. needin some grace to be taking responsibility for the bunny trails leading nowhere somewhere behind my face. and who knew? i'll be immediately dingy and depressed-feeling after about five minutes of not going all out in jesus' name slamming those thoughts satan plants--or i plant..s-- in my brain. colors really aren't pretty anymore and squirrels and their twitchy-ness isn't cute, and the slightest obligations weigh heavy. and then i feel worth less then WORTHLESS and eventually...impendingly (i don't care if that's not a word)... i'll hang my head low and mope before the throne of the Lord. "o. OH. OHHHHH woe is me. my poor, poor unfortunate soul. so locked up in the demands of this life i call LIFE. so so OH SO much bondage. my face, Lord. Lord, do you see my face? it's scrunching. oh. oh my.. i'm crying. oh. OH. SOMEONE. HOLD ME!"

*crickets*

GAG A FREAKING MAGGOT! not that there aren't some times in life when you just need to be pathetic in front of jesus, but...my WORD, woman. do you not SEE what's happening here! satan gives you a knife and you slit your wrists. and cue: "man, OUCH, god! did you see what that devil just did? where you be!!? did you  not SEE that?! man, where ARE you, man?"

i don't know why the back street accent. bear with me.

then i think, "okay. okay, fine. god's not talking to me. take out my ash and sackcloth...knew that burlap was good for somethin...DESPAIR! AGONY!"

*tree frogs*

well... folks.... it's gotten old. and, personally... welp, yeah... it's just gotten real old. satan's got bad plans for me, i've noticed. and when he laid out the blue prints of his plan for my life, i threw up my hands and weaped. like a jerk who is so dense IN the head and so stinkin' like a sheep OR turkey that looks up, mouth open, in a rain storm and DROWNS ITSELF. somethin's ringing a bell over here...almighty god? deliverer? defender... helper...fighter...healer....beat satan DOWNer... yep. i'm missin out on the bigness of my god.

thus. bible reading shall be quite helpful and all the more necessary. 1) for truth-filling and 2) for getting more informed on this 'big god' thing. looking forward to this.

so STOP FEELING SORRY FOR YOURSELF. it's lame. what a waste.

p.s. read philippians 4.

a fine time to be paranoid.

so, i hear this talk about not being ashamed of the gospel. and immediately i started thinking "but what about people you cringe for because they make life really unnecessarily awkward..." when you see folks or even catch yourself in a situation where you just think "this is weird. i'm talking about jesus. and it's totally not natural. and it's like rather then meeting the needs of the person in front of me, i'm using the name Jesus just so they KNOW that i'm a christian...because, in the end, this is really about ME. not about them. then they'll think i'm radical. psh. or something."

i don't know. i'd rather be weird and awkward then never say a word about the guy that runs my life (when i'm letting things flow they way they're supposed to go, anyway..).... but then also, self-proclaimed, i'm ASHAMED of the gospel. but i don't know if that's because that's truly my deep down issue-filled heart condition or if it's because i really hate the 'preachy-oblivous-to-context-and-culture' approach. you know? maybe not. not everyone follows my vehicles of thought. alternate route: i don't like typical evangelism. shoving a tract in your neighbor's hand when, really you should be inviting them over for dinner. and, oh how righteous i am--bull CRAP. i miss opportunities RIGHT and LEFT. INTENTIONALLY. i've got a big part of me that's deliberately, deceitfully disobedient to the holy spirit. he tells me to do things--in fact, just last night--and i think, "but god, let's not make things weird, shall we?" as if iiiiiiiiiiiii know something about my culture's way of social interaction that heeeee...doesn't. great, micah...way to make that call.

idiot.

and don't comment on this post saying "deary, don't be so hard on yourself" cuz i'll comment right back and say that i'm fully aware of god's grace and mercy on my weary soul, but i'm also completely tuned in to the fact that I'M AN IDIOT to think that i "just have a certain underSTANDING" that god "JUST doesn't know" cuz, uh, he's just living at such a "higher altitude" than we are on earth and, uh, maaaaaybe he just needs my help to understand that "you know, it's really not NORMAL to stop at that house on my road and tell them i pray for their salvation every time i drive past and tell them god loves them" because maybe they're really not hurting as bad as i KNOW they are and maybe what they need is love through hospitality. so. i'll wait til i've got time to make them cookies. then i'll go may day on them and attach a "spiritual note" to their plate of piled cookies and....BOLT. "cuz, you know, god... that's a better approach."

WHAT?

i'm insane.
and don't say a dang thing in response to that. confirming or objecting. i don't wanna hear it.

am i ashamed? ugh. probably. on most days. other days, when i've got peace flowin like a RIVER in my soul? i'm better at loving people those days. and there's a lot of joy that's apparent by the amount of jokes i make and by the amount i laugh at those jokes and by the length in inches my smile spreads across my face and my eyes'll water, too, cuz they do when i'm excited. and sometimes i'm just excited about life. so. eyes light up. but yeah, hug an old person and pray for opportunities to serve people. score. but i can call it quits at that, sometimes. they'll know we're in it with jesus by our love, right? orrr they'll know we're just lovey people when we love...cuz THOSE exist, too. those folks you evaluate from the sidelines for months WONDERING if they love jesus cuz they sure act like it, only to find out they signed off with the creator a long time ago when their mom died and god gave no explanation. they're done. but they just LOVE.

but. i'm not that person. christ IS behind the way i walk and talk like it ain't no thaaaang. smashmouth. but really.. and i'm not about to make my life excessively difficult AGAIN and crap my pants and have a pre-mid-life-but-just-as-intense CRISIS because i can't figure out the technicalities of my relationship with the LORD. when. REALLY. all that needs to happen is for me to stop freaking out and just, for CRYING OUT LOUD, let. the. holy for a REASON. spirit take reign in my life. been there. done that. the gospel is simple enough a child can understand it. let's not make this complicated. just love jesus and love people with the love jesus gives ya. k. good.

but let's talk about world events, shall we? did you not SEE the news and the 1,000+ people DEAD in japan after a flipping TSUNAMI washed them out. GONE. they're lives done. their hope. GONE. again. GONE. and DONE. and then the one the hit hawaii. and the west coast. and how bout the one that wiped out new orleans. that was a hurricane. same difference. tragedy via ocean. how bout death and destruction that's happening EVERWER. SERIOUSLY. what about that kid today that doesn't know HOW the crap to behave because his mom and gramma act JUST as childish as he does. how's HE gonna grow up? huh? what about the fact that the MEDIA has gone to lengths to tell my generation, "hey, don't get pregnant because, uh, then you'll have a kid if you go that route (since when should there be ROUTES) and then you won't be able to finish college. it'll be hard." says. the bird. on tv. and billboards. because mom and pops. didn't. mention it.

parents that don't raise good parents don't raise good kids and WHAT IS THIS WORLD COMING TO.. and i promise i love you and i guarantee i'm a freak and fool and i mess up like it's nobody's business but mine. complete with business cards. number and address on the bottom. call me. we'll start a support group. pass out flyers. BUT COME ON. the world's getting worse, right?!  noah looks in the mirror and it's near exact reflection. (as in the days of noah so shall it be...somethin somethin..when the end is near...) so! fine time to be paranoid, micah tegeler. i'm nice to myself, i swear i am. but this is important enough. my first AND last name's required. FINE TIME.

hippie love ain't gon save anybody. and peeps should know i'm on with jesus not marijuana. cuz, i beg you, there's a difference.

for the record, i'm not persecuted. bahaha at least to my face. who know what folks talk about. haha but i mean, really, life's good. and then, i can't say that if i were REALLY doin the whole disciple of JC thing right that i'd be a loner without a friend in the world. and that court crown wouldn't be collecting dust under my couch. cuz that's not right, either. i mean, come on. but i wonder if i'm afraid of friction. rex on toy story: i don't like confontation!!! but i LIKE fighting. i really ENJOY throwing people under the bus, honestly. evil laugh and SCORE. won that one. repent. sorry. use my words for something constructive. i'm SORRY, jesus. (that's how it often goes)... danget, i LIKE stating my opinions on a FREQUENT basis but who... CARES... if i win one for creamy verses crunchy on my pb&j.  i do. but does the same effort go into my testimony...y'know that one time when jesus saved my scared to DEATH five year old soul from the flaming fires that gave me bad dreams. mom  prayed for me and i slept sound that night.  PRAISE THE LORD, O, MY SOULLL--I MIGHT START CRYIN RIGHT HERE AND RIGHT NOW cuz that was AMAZING! how precious he is to scoop me up. gross, disgusting and dingy from my thick voluntary inhales of world and lust on a daily basis.  my god's an awesome god, y'all. and what i give him back: a willingness to serve but not a willingness to burn.  i realize i just talked about fire back there so you might be thinking i'm referring to that with the word 'burn' but i'm not. a willingness to burn with passion for jesus. a willingness to do whatEVER the holy spirit prods toward because i can't STAND my own way of doing things. i'm not dead to self. quite alive, more like. and i can't shake it even though heaven SCREAMS inside of me. refer back to blog titled "everyone needs an untitled"...i think that's the one.. the one about KNOWING there's something inside of you that's meant for a SOMETHING. and it burns inside but sometimes your own tears can put it out. lack of my own movement makes me depressed. i think SOME times it's the reason for me begging and clawing for a WAY OUTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT. i get SO INSANE because i WANT to get out and someone PLEASE just tell me my college has gone bankrupt and i have no options and the only thing to my name is a ticket to africa. you're screwed. you have to live there and listen to the holy spirit cuz otherwise you'll get skewered and roasted and eaten. i really don't know where i'm going with this. but i DO know that i'm okay with being passionate and on fire for jesus (again, not referring to the flames that may roast me if i don't listen to the holy spirit) but the mental picture for that is in a foreign country far away from home and comfort.

i have a DANG hard time living that out in iowa. i've got contingencies that the lord isn't interested in. i wanna be who he wants me to be but where iiii see it best playing out. away from my family. and friends. and people i've lived life with. because then i won't be embarrassed. and i'll just send home letters about "OH MY FREAKING WOW, LOOK AT WHAT GOD'S DOING HERE" and then you'll all think i'm legit because there's a picture of me holding a baby with a snotty nose and i'm not wearing any makeup which makes me look rugged and "IN  it" with those people that are just needin to hear bout the love of jesus. ....i feel for some reason the innerds of my brain are coming out on paper and i'm thinking to myself "mike, you should stop. this is gettin nasty." but HELLO (together, now, say, "hi") this is the state in my HEART, folks. and i don't even wanna THINK about getting all emotional with you. sick. but this is reality.

so, a fine time to be paranoid, micah. a soul's a soul and the ones that died in japan are just as likely to die HERE. hell's as hot for lost there as it is for lost HERE. except, here you'll get persecuted by the people you KNOW. ouch. copout NOW. QUICK. cuz, ooooooooooouuuch. cut's deepest, i think, when the people that loved you once don't love you anymore. people that called you up since grade school don't call you anymore. cuz you've "changed". and the relatives that kept quiet before now elbow the person next to them when you walk in the room. exchanging glances, understanding. HOPING you don't go at it again. this jesus stuff makes reunions awkward.

but then at least seeds are planted.

at least then there's something for the spirit to water.

at least then your hands are clean.

and god have mercy for the blood that's on mine.

pass me a tissue. cuz now's a fine time to be paranoid.

i don't want to. you can't make me.

i'm going to speak with boldness
because victory is mine through christ jesus.

writin this in red and everything
but not changing the color of font
cause then it's hard to read

i messed up today
i failed today
i was 'oh THAT girl' today
(negative connotations)

drawing arrows on myself
and the enemy likes
but i won't FILL this journal
with all my 'done wrongs'
more like i'll ask forgiveness
for everything
and i'll be windexed
chalk powder not even floating
a clean slate i am

in the lord

so maker of all things
crowder says your glorious
and so do i
so make me feel victorious

cuz i cry at the sight of blood
mental pictures drip warm
and wring of it
smell of it

cover yourself for your death draws nigh
at the hand of institutional pressure
and deep down sown
needle pricks
INSECURITY

and it's not my imagination
station
some days i wish i were back
living in the light my big sisters cast
free sailing
listening
to that tape tick back
nightloveyousorrythankyou

simplicity and first grade
and WHY is school even
a PART
of this conversation
with myself

i'm alone
yeah, right.
y'all it's my REDEMPTION
that's doin the doodlin nigh
and i've got the holy spirit
LIVIN inside

and i'm grateful
for the incineration of the rags
he uses to
wipe
i hate that word
me
clean

don't run from your ma
when she wipes your mouth clean
tragedy walking out that
apartment loaned
door
lacking perspective
for lack of a more insightful word.

not on sale.
currently
chronically
cats
FREE
(no cats. alliterations go in 3s)

how much longer til i

GET IT.