You've Got Me

This is the poem I swore I would never allow you to inspire.
The thoughts that slowly seep in when living out my waking dream
I’ve been too afraid to speak because then they might have even more power.
The things that had you asked me yesterday
I would have undoubtedly denied
Because you
Are the man
Of my nightmares
The cracks in the never-ending sidewalk of my love life that I am forever trying to sidestep
As I try to keep my mama’s back unbroken.
And you and your kind from swallowing me whole.
As you always do.
This is the poem that forces my hand instead of the other way around
This is all my cards on the table
This is me after you have made me lose control.

You’ve got my mind hijacked for hours on end
Forcing it into lascivious landscapes of libidinous reverie
Ignoring the fact that I should have never even let you in the car in the first place
You’ve got me knowing exactly where you are in the room at all times
As if I am some kind of self-contained one-woman tracking device .
You’ve got me choosin’ outfits and underwear based on what I think you might like
You’ve got me writin’ poetry about your sorry ass
I mean, damn, baby; you’ve got me.

You’ve got me twisted and knotted up in kama sutra ideas
Of what we could do to each other
You’ve got me taking every other member of my spank bank out of rotation
You’ve got me mentally book marking a thousand and one things
I want to tell you about on any given day but when you’re around
I’m speechless and staring at my shoes
Like they might tell me my next (bold move) (willing them to feed me my next line)
You’ve got me thinking about what it might be like to wake up next to you
You’ve got me checkin’ my phone every 2 minutes to see if you’ve called or texted or paged
You’ve got me making excuse as to why you haven’t

You’ve got me wishin’ on eyelashes that the same things are happening to you.
Even though by best mind knows they’re not.
Despite all my tryin’, baby, you’ve got me.

I want to free myself
But the dysfunction in me looks at the dysfunction in you
And sees its perfectly inverted mirror reflection
A monstrously deformed and distorted lock-and-key


And every time we barely touch as we pass and pretend not to notice
Fate’s hands start shaking like “I just need one more drink”
Because she knows I’ve been tryin to wash your taste out of my mouth
The way one trys to wash out the taste of a hot pepper when they bit off more than they can chew -
By frantically grabbing anything or one in reach to try to stop the burning
And not only is it not working
But I’m kinda havin an “I told you no wire hangers!” moment with this
So she knows that I am a bullet in the barrel of a gun held by a high-school social outcast
Ready to fire
See I might just explode at any second.

But instead we sit here
Talkin’ shit like we’re letting our words duke it out over who could care less
Because that’s how much we don’t care
All the while exhaling unspoken and half-baked promises
Into blood shot eyes.
Hoping you’ll pass when I test you:
“Yeah, she was really cute. You should give her a call.”

Procrasterbation

There are four websites I visit every day of the work-week:
Nataliedee.com
Toothpastefordinner.com
Marriedtothesea.com
And Overheardinnewyork.com
Other websites I visit on a work-daily basis include but are not limited to:
Explodingdog
Austinslam
The LiveJournals of my friends
The Live Journals of my past lovers
Hisspace, herspace myspace and yourspace
I stare out the window
Pretend to organize my desk
Go across the street for some coffee
(and I fuckin hate coffee)
I text my sister
I check my email
A lot.
I write poetry
I practice poetry
All in the name of not doing the shit that I am supposed to be doing
At work.
The art of procrastination has been perfected through the ages
Thanks to countless jobs in cubical cages
For menial tasks compensating negligible wages
So there is something so rewarding about watching the numma numma yay kid
For the gazillionth time without your boss ever suspecting
Cookies stolen from the cookie jar and devoured before mom makes it from the garage
To the kitchen are always sweeter for the same reason that every thing is funnier in church;
Because you aren’t supposed to laugh in church.
Which is why procrastinating at work is so satisfying!
But not for me.
Because my boss procrastinates at work too
I mean he calls us into his office at least 3 times a month to show us some
Crazy-awesome beatboxer or a logic-defying skateboarding dog
So there is no need for me to sneak around about looking at the same stuff on my own.
Thus, for me, it loses all sense of fulfillment I might gain from simply wasting time at work
I have to do it in my personal life as well.
Laundry, dishes, going to the grocery store, and any other chore I might encounter are all subject to my favorite form of distraction:
Procrasterbatiuon
You know
The art of procrastination through self love.
I mean, as long as we’re wastin’ time, might as well enjoy it, right?
Although it may look like distraction on the surface,
Procrasterbation is actually quite productive indeed!
It jolts the heart-rate much like sprinting
It relives stress and lowers cortical levels which can lead to weight problems
It helps boost the immune system
It raises dopamine levels in the brain causing feelings of happiness and contentment
And if a person can’t rely on him or herself for feelings of happiness and contentment
Who else can they rely on?
One could argue, even, that everything else is actually tearing us away from what is really important!
And if everyone could be healthy happy and content, then there would be no need for
Fighting, or aggressive driving, or war or late--night infomercials or televangelists
The world would be a much more safe and enjoyable place to live!
So go on, I beseech you to procrasterbate as much as possible.
In fact, you should move it to the top of your to-do list.