love

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Month: May, 2016

Fuck, fuck,fuck,fuck,fuck,fuck.

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Fuck,
Fuck,
Fuck. Some days I would gladly pull a cover over my head and simply sleep through them. I’m tired and past the point of biting my tongue within the genetic pool, yet it’s only going to get worse over the next eight days. My stomach hurts and I fucking hate mother nature. I’m hot and should take off my jumper….and boots too but I can’t be arsed to, so instead I’ll endure the rising temperatures out of stubbornness, because stubbornness is in my genes. How the fuck do we all come from the same gene pool and yet half of us turn out like…..yeah I’ve answered my own question. Did I say my stomach hurts my stomach fucking hurts. I need to make a phone call that requires I listen to some bull shit music for the next hour at least..and the mandatory ‘we are experiencing a higher than usual…blah blah fucking blah…..and for a writer I’m feeling shockingly short on vocabulary, fuck…being my word of choice for the time being…and I’m hungry. I’m hungry. I’m hungry. I’m hungry. I’m hungry. I’m hungry. My stomach hurts. I’m hungry. My stomach hurts. I’m feeling done with today but I don’t think today is done with me.

Karen.

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Grayness.

Tell me when you’ve done

condemning me to the

huts of the cursed

when you’re finished hissing

venom at me. Tell me when

your hate fueled

words will come to an

end and I can once again

breathe. Tell

me when you are finished

tearing apart my soul so

I can again, fix the broken bits.

Tell me how long the broken

shells will lay at my feet,

my blood soaking

the ground I walk, my spirit

seeping into the earth,

grayness snaking through

my heart. Tell me.

 

Karen Hayward ©2016

 

 

Figuratively.

img_20160222_172610.jpg

A parallel universe

of this diverse perversity

where there’s a deep purple haze

of insane reality.

A universe where broken

is the expected speciality,

follow me,

we’ll lose all rationality.

 

Karen Hayward ©2016