coming to take me away….

when I get to reading someone else’s blog
I always seem to start out
with a feeling of guilty pleasure
like some sort of vicarious peeping tom

I start out with the altruistic thought
that I can somehow come to understand this person
thru the words on the page…

but what really happens
is that I come to understand
that the thing that makes us different
is the very thing that makes us the same

our need for love
and all the variations of same

people cloak the need for love
in all different manners
some with jokes
some with sex
some with food
some with guilt
some with fat
some with abstinence
some with shopping
some with shame
some with wit
some with vitriol
some with sugar
some with anger
some with nothing
some with the undying belief
that there truly is a happily ever after

so
did ya ever ask any of them happily every after’s
just what the fuck they thought about us?

those of us valiant few
who made the decision
to never compromise
to hold the line
to live our meager existence
to the fullest
alone?

Don’t laugh now…it ain’t funny

we really ain’t that different you and I
“if you cut me do I not bleed?”
yup…just you, me and Othello

it’s not like there haven’t been chances…
do I not have an ex named Dan?
and a double ex named Davie?
and a triple ex named Ron?
in retrospect,I’m glad I never actually married any of em…

sound’s pretty bad
when you put it that way
but truly 3-10 year relationships
for an almost 50 year old woman
ain’t such a bad record

and also truthfully
for a sick, tired, old, bald broad
I still get my share of offers
go figure?

but here’s what I’ve come to understand
at the ripe old age of 49
when I was young
and had waist long hair
and
legs up to here
and
a tiny waist
and
big round breasts
and black brown eyes
and men and women
followed me around like puppies

I was insecure

then came the accident
to my face
the new cheekbone and nose
and the more of the scars
(the visible one’s anyway)

in a split second my life changed

so I worked and worked
and worked some more
to get back to hotness

and when I did
it didn’t matterbecause
I was still insecure

I could never beleive
they wanted me
for me

the focus has always been
the looks
if not mine
then the look I present to others

and then way more life happened
(too much for this pitiable tale)
here I am 30 years later

and twice the size I once was
and bald
weak brown eyes

still insecure

so

I gotta laugh
I gotta laugh
cos…they may be coming to take me away…