Mouse tries to shoot Cupid

© MMM/PAZ 2014

****

Maybe I didn’t say that right.

Yeah, it didn’t come out right. I think I meant to say, “FUCK YEAH CUPID!”

So I’m sorry Cupid. Sorry.

I just…uugh… old habits die hard. You know? Listen. Listen, I never hated you, really. I just grew up bitter about the whole thing, you know? Being “in love” is really weird. It’s weird like I’m having an out of body experience, like I’m having one of those dereealization moments continually. Yeah, those who have postraumatic stress know derealization well enough.

See, I never liked Valentine’s Day and, well, today is that so-called day. BLEEEUUUUGH. AT LEAST in Colombia, my birthplace, we call this day El Día del Amor y la Amistad (Day of Love and Friendship) and we celebrate it sometime in September… I think. That’s more fitting to my taste and beliefs and whatnot.

Anyway, shit I don’t mean to get off course. See, I’m not sure if you had anything to do with it or not Sir Cupid, but either way, this “falling in love” thing is actually happening. It happened with Monkey Man, but that was chaotic–falling in and out and in and out all while wanting to blow my brains out.

****

I rejected it. THIS. BEING. “IN LOVE.”  I rejected it so much and nearly sabotaged any possibility of giving “love” a chance when it came around the corner last August.

I did.

But… I was in therapy! I AM in therapy. And shit does that help.

Fuck Valentines! Happy Day of Love and Friendship everyone.

And HAPPY FULL MOON! I love you. So so high, so full and yellow and bright…

Mouse Love

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Too angry to scream, too sleepy to dream.
I’m too hungry to chew, boy I am.
I’m too horny to screw, boy I am

but…

I’m the happiest girl
when I sing the blues.
What about you? And you? and

See I’m too tired to sleep and sadly
you outta know that I’m too sad to weep.
A bit too lost to keep up the trail.

Ever been so awake to not know?
But can’t show you’re too scared to grow?
Like the one you smoke, too baked to shake it off.

But..

I’m the happiest girl
when I sing the blues.
What about you? And you? and

Baby, I’m too glad to take your hand
but darling, I’m too wary to marry
and carry any kind of bundle of a man.

Too confused to choose and loosing
anything is a crime, but I’m too vile to make you mine.
Yes, I know, I’m too beautiful not to shine.

Too out of touch. I’ll need a crutch
to clutch to when I fall with you
and this is true, you know it’s true.

That..

I’m the happiest girl
when I sing the blues.
What about you?

© Paz
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Day four’s prompt was to write a poem in the style of a twelve bar blues song. Well this one’s a variation of a twelve bar, me thinks. It’s a good thing I know music, like reading it and shit but it’s been a while since I’ve sat in front of a piano so I may be way off.

Sappy and crappy and it is just for you.