Tuesday, June 21, 2011

New poem "Blanket Body"

What happens under the blanket?
Are my legs still there?
I think the quilt has taken life,
my body disappeared.
Do I still exist if I am unseen
even by myself?
Not if reality is what you see,
instead of what is felt.

Sunday, June 19, 2011

I stopped reading "Electroboy" (a memoir) because I realized that the guy isn't "crazy", he's just a complete "asshole".

I am now reading "a heartbreaking work of staggering genius" and it's gross, not sure if i'll finish it either. Mostly because the library doesn't give me enough times to finish books, ever.

Saturday, June 18, 2011

I'm debating making a chapbook just because I want to self promote myself.
Maybe the title could be, HTTP://LILYYYDAWN.BLOGSPOT.COM.
Maybe I could pay money to just be LILYYYDAWN.COM
or I could donate that money to cleft lipped children in India.
I think about donating money a lot.
Also I have poison ivy and it sucks.
Here is a poem I wrote.

Letter to my future friend

I know we haven't met yet and you probably think I'm a bad person
based on all the stuff you've been told about me,
like being addicted to “drugs”
having severe depression
or relying heavily on alcohol,
but I know that once you see me, you will realize that I'm not so strung out,
that I won't be popping pills in public
or stealing out of your mother's purse.
You will think it was so silly to be nervous about seeing me
once you see my wide doe eyes and dainty frame.
How could a pretty glass figurine such as myself overdose and wake up in a hospital bed,
wrists and ankles tied to the railing to prevent any further vicious attacks on the staff?
Wonder will smack your brain and you'll say,
“I knew it all had to be lies! This girl is an angel!”

And you will let me off with a nice prescription of Adderall
instead of sentencing me to the mental ward.

Friday, June 17, 2011

I couldn't believe when you said you stole my car
and your girlfriend called the cops on you,
they came and took it away to the impound.
So I punched you in the crotch >10x
to no avail.

My fists are always like rubber in my dreams.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

This past week I had poetry and short stories rejected from six different literary publications.

Sunday, June 5, 2011

The building is closed. I have to clean downstairs.
I will vacuum and take the trash out.
Then move my belongings down there.
Set up camp until midnight.
Take over a couch and a lamp and an electrical outlet.
Read a book
or maybe type on the internet.

Saturday, June 4, 2011

I deleted the bath salt post because I was paranoid someone would think I was a druggie or something.