Closure

I start with a smile, I wear it,

Not sure why though

It stands there in full pride teeth gleaming, eyes mischievous.

 The very fact that I have imagined it proves that I am both slightly delirious and definitely hilarious…

Mostly to myself

Alas the audience is my own…

The shadow that has grown with me reasons…

Telling me stories of thoughts and fissures in my reality.

 What SHOULD be?

How my emotions in the widened oceans of known speculations

SHOULD be

Anger, maliciousness, even hatred

All these leave a putrid scent in the air

I dare not take it in…

Deep inhalations of Mary J’s finest

Call it uncensored courage for the hours of confrontation

They lie ahead

Sleeplessness

There is no rest for the wicked

 Paces quickened to a place of light…

Arms shifting, bodies speaking subliminally in our opposites

We fought war not with each other but ourselves  

I took a ride…by choice this time I ran in the darkness towards the stories I needed him to tell

Closure

A potion I drank to my fill…

I never want to crave his again

He took me for a ride…

One, two, three were pleasurable the rest were plain miserable so…

 I NEEDED his closure...NO I needed his to be mine

Damn it!

I needed it

I had it

He gave it to me

Closure

Wounds wide open, dirt he threw…

One day it would be infectious, THIS he knew

Another day at the office I assumed

Thanks to his Closure

That night I knew…

That for certain

 I was right

But we were not!

Try as we might

Pigs and unicorns would sooner take flight on the strongest of wishes

But

NOTHING could keep US afloat

Unless passion and ripped clothing sufficed as sole relational currency

His loss seeing as I’m strung on celibacy and it would never be enough for me so I Closed in on the Closure he gave to me

A multitude of give and take was that night

My gratitude is immense

It was the best he could he could give in replacement

The clearest rhapsody of reality that sat across from me

  CLOSURE.  

Listen To Closure HERE      

Complex Complexities

Hello there… just as we get acquainted … I need you to know I AM A COMPLEX BEING.

My thoughts and actions are easier said than done to decipher.

My spontaneity?

Unpredictable naturally just as the very word implies

 It may seem as though I over think, over analyse or over-stand…

That I see the invisible and non-existent

But you must know this by now even before my name

Before the multitude of hallucinogens

 I AM A COMPLEX BEING! 

Neither shall I show the real meaning of a light nod or expression…

The race ran by my ambition based solely of cognition explored with pen as sword

My eyes are not gorged out…with a simple pout it is clear…there’s disapproval in the air a slight whiff somewhere

You scratch your scalp simply because the little hair left has been pulled out…

Comprehension of this creature this being is STILL beyond you even if I behave the most polite

 I must beg that you find it clear…

My name is Stephanie and I AM A COMPLEX BEING.

Freaky Clean Up-er!

 I can’t begin to express how the process of cleaning up makes me feel, it’s probably one of those OCD by-products only...pleasurable. Some people itch uncontrollably...and I, clean to relieve myself, not in a using the bathroom kind of way BUT in a relaxing expression of emotion! Some people get therapeutic massages, listen to classical music or even take walks to release their frustrations, emotions; all in sundry BUT I blare the loudest music and rage war on the bathroom kitchen or closet instead.

 Its warfare! I literally scrub anything beige to white. To be safe me and Maneta should be kept away from the bleach I tend to erm ...over indulge; I don’t drink it, pour it onto people, use it on myself or anything like that though, so you can relax!

But truth be told we’d all be cleaner if we bleached ourselves every now and then, Carrot lite will do fine. (hahaha did you get that one?)

When I’m upset I do many things but most of the time its tie between cleaning up and writing, when I’m happy I clean, when I’m angry I’ll do my laundry so damn well.

It’s pretty creepy when really think about it now. Hell I’ll bet if I were a serial killer I’d be one of those that’d sweep the ‘scene of the crime’so damn well and people wouldn’t know it EVER happened! (MIHAHA!) I probably shouldn’t have put that in writing...now you’ll always wonder...is she? Isn’t she? Would she? Okay, okay I digress.

It feels like I’m scouring away my sorrows my problems, almost as though if I scrub hard enough all the bad things that have happened can be reversed and turned non-existent.

Cleaning when I’m angry is like throttling the person who pissed me off, only I’ve got the broom handle in full grip instead.

As the music blares from my speakers I’m having a good shout and moan about everything fucked up at the moment but only the bathroom walls get to hear me. Get to hear the truth, how I really feel...about stuff! 

It’s as though every stain removed is a problem solved. Funny thing is, it’s a stain I’ve probably seen all week, a mess that’s been nagging at my sub conscience saying “watcha watcha gonna do about it?” Then something happens and I SNAP! My cleaning artillery on hand I scrub that smug mess of the face of...of the ceramic tiles.

And then there’s the satisfaction of the glimmer, shine, sweet smell of bleach in the air. That is when I know ...I’ve WON.

I’ve conquered whatever was bothering me; the pleasure is so sweet very sweet almost as good as...! Don’t give my text that look! I know it’s twisted but I’ll bet somebody somewhere reading THIS right NOW has a freaky/ freakier way of dealing with stuff SO! Feel free to drop it the comment box, I can’t promise ‘they’ won’t judge but I won’t! Because...

 I’m a freak too!