November 20, 2019 (Please excuse the language.)

“Nice pants,”
He said
And gave me the feeling
It had been
“Nice ass”
In his head.

Not sure how poetic or sensical (I hereby express my desire for “sensical” to become a standard word) this is, but I wrote it.


Устала
Одно слово написала
А спать сейчас иду ...
О завтрашнем дне мечтаю

11.XI.2019
—————————————

(Got) tired
Wrote one word
And I am going to sleep now ...
And dreaming of tomorrow

12/11/2019 English

A poem of angst that is not so elegant (because this is part of how I process things)

Sometimes I feel like everyone hates me
Despite any evidence to the contrary
I see my mistakes and my lack of grace
And all I want to do is hide my face
And I keep too busy running away
To see if anyone would really want me to stay
And when I say I feel ugly
I do not just mean my body
I mean me —
I — feel ugly
And even if I am not
People do not usually want
To be around someone who feels that way
And I wonder if people think I am completely loopy
When I feel like I am falling every which direction
But up is not merely another form of down
Even if motion may be relative
Why is it so hard to live
Without tearing open your soul
Why is it so hard to be whole
Easy to feel worthless
Like a bunch of failures on a list
There has to be light somewhere within me
Does it matter who can see
Does it matter if I can
If they can
Or nobody
How can anybody see
Something in me beautiful
When to myself I seem so very inanely dreadful


10-12 November 2019