September 9, 2017

Bards and Brews

Sometimes I wish I had someone to go with me to these things.

                                    dizzy

                                    reluctant

                                    thirsty

People dig into me. From all sides, they take me on deep as I stare at backs and feel the sneer of silent eyes heavy on my mind.

                                    unmoving

                                    proselytizing my fear

                                    convincing my sanctuary

Am I hiding enough? Not enough? Am I in that wide-open vulnerability against the taunts in my delirium? I can always feel it. My enjoyment is obscure in their imaginary power.

                                    just go

                                    slow and smooth

                                    stay

Elbows on wooden barrels for tables. They slurp their madness. My madness is my sobriety. I’m not hero-bound in my reluctance to indulge. I find the new reality of terror and tingly skin, the abundance of feeling the most alive. I thrive in the stand as I commit to my failures.

                                    awake

                                    harmonic chaos

                                    live in the uncomfortable

 

Vintage signs static with hiss and locale. Their electricity cheats each other in competition. The days of bards who conquered censorship I fantasize with. Distinct they are among the prose. The rebel writers of rebellious religion wrote with addicted nasty fervor. My history, my now, the muse speaks shit and fuck, they don pageboys and illicit humor.

                                    beat

                                    chronic sensation

                                    mind sans boundaries

Ancient green windows with stone walls mock the poseur. Decadence in word finds love among flannel shirts and ladies in beauty without makeup. With my notebook in hand my anxiety speaks on lines. My usual tricks are to compromise insecurity with lack of being prompt. Poetic ramblings amuse my child, the pet dog was named Sandbag.

                                    living

                                    clarity in the white noise

                                    charity in my acknowledgement to the masses

 

                                   

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About PJ Secluded

Introspective writer working on first manuscript. Writer of original series, poems, musings of sorts and the occasional manic prose. My main blog is an original series seen through the eyes of the lesbian protagonist Burgess. With her brood of studs, they conquer fear and tragedy, embracing love and the experiences between close friends. I have been writing for just a little while now and found a true passion for it. I want to help others through my writing discussing sensitive issues that affect the LGBTQ community in a unique fashion

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