Starving Extrovert's Dream

The lonely weeks have left me ravenous.
Seclusion’s sludge does bubble dangerously.
The quarantine, a crater in my guts.
Unsavory time you make a fool of me.
The only drop of life that I have left,
Is in mirages that I see of you.
A vison starts a throb inside my chest,
But also helps my swelling thrust subdue.
I see the unsheathed sun cares your cheeks,
The dopy summer wind plays with your hair.
Your hand extends to touch the cloudy peaks.
You turn to me, and grin, without a care.
Oy Vey! I cry, I want to be confined,
With you as time traces our smile lines.
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-RM
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Published in Lumen
The Epidermis

Private Clobetasol the newest member in our ranks. Fresh, white faced, Crisp corners, rigged form. With that sickening sweet n' sour smell of confidence and plastic box. It’s almost hopeful, almost inspiring, each time you press him he bounces back, like magic, like he’ll never run dry. I doubt he’ll last a month. Next in line Sergeant Triamcinolone Their cap now crusted Brown 'n Yellow, a jagged, curling form, wearing every desperate moment we’ve had like a badge. Barely standing on his tilted top he waits for emergencies only. Then the ladies, CeraVe, Nivia, and Aquaphor. Each holding their own beauty and pride. CeraVe, a wide form, stiff insides, gives you a sting, but leaves you in heaven faster than you can say ouch. Nivia tall and curvy, makes you forget you’re living in war, but she doesn't last long. Aquaphor leaves you a sloppy sticky mess. but, She’ll get you through more than just the night. Dr. Kheil’s who’s not a doctor. Mouth of a scientist, teeth of a scam artist No one knows exactly what they do. But fear what will happen if they don’t agree with his solemn smiles. So we pay our dues. And Cetaphil and Jergens, and Eucerin and all the other soldiers they promised would win this war. They sag against each other in the back of a barracks discarded, forgotten, half used. Finally, the Benadryl, a time bomb, sleeping amongst the regular Allegra. An easy win but heavy cost. It strangles all life from the battle, the good and the bad. We fear it but we need it, and we use it more and more, and wait in horror when it becomes the only resource we have. -RM
An Original Prologue for Twelfth Night

Good Marrow friends, and welcome to our show!
A timeless treasure reimagined new.
With double trouble fueling our dismay,
the total of our mischief is times two.
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The problem in our lives is just like yours.
When we encounter love we fall too short.
But, opportunity has many doors.
I hope we'll find the right fellow to court.
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I have two warnings lest we break our bones.
Before you settle down into your seats,
Deactivate those bright and noise phones!
DO NOT record our tale, that's bad, you cheat.
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So watch our Jolly Robin Tale unfold
and put those phones away as you were told!
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-RM
Constantly Counting

I’m constantly counting.
Adding the values,
Subtracting the losses.
Will it equal out?
Will I have a little extra?
Will I be in debt?
Already in debt.
Gotta dig out.
How much can I cut out?
I’m not dirt poor.
I can have dessert now and then.
Will this ice cream take me over the edge?
Counting the value.
Weighing the guilt,
Each time that I eat.
-RM
Each time that I eat,
Weighing the guilt.
Counting the value.
Will this ice cream take me over the edge?
I can have dessert now and then.
I’m not dirt poor.
How much can I cut out?
Gotta dig out.
Already in debt.
Will I be in debt?
Will I have a little extra?
Will it equal out?
Subtracting the losses,
Adding the values.
I’m constantly counting.
​
-RM
The Narcissist

Sweet words slip through the door. Your, a smiley flask of smoke but cracking and out seeps the stench of insecurities. Your, self-loathing oozes through the pearly whites and burns the lips on every breath. Your, Eyes looking, expectation pulsing. The weight of your self-worth, lays heavy in the air, Waiting reassurance, Apologies, Love, a pining stare. and here, this is when the smoke screen dissipates. I see you. You, a tattered skeleton, thin, wiry, a creature at the point of shattering. You, fractures and wounds devouring your ivory. You, only bound with Band-Aids and string. I've waited too long to answer. My eyes cut to the floor and tongue moves on it's own. Weaving one more string of safety 'round your rotting heart. Your breath releases, fluttering, rippling in your shoulders, flapping from your eyes. A single string around your broken pieces, small, and taught yet your golden prize. Validation hits like a drug. I was just the fix you needed. You'll be back again when you want another plug. When your other stashes are depleted.
Ode to Weary Travelers

Confronting all the world you look ahead.
I wish you’d dance along without a fight.
But treacherous terrains leave your eyes red,
You must keep on the road with all your might.
For every current trial taunting you
Is one less future hiccup holding stern.
The more you fight and fiercely struggle through,
The stronger you will be when you return.
So, don’t be sad! The journey may be long,
But you’ll be glad for through each obstacle.
A jewel you’ll add upon yourself so strong.
Proves you not mad; you are unstoppable.
Through creatures in the mirror scoff your bluff
Wipe the tears, see clearer, you are enough.
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-RM
Published in the Lumen
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