Lost in Vivia


I tend to clench my teeth a lot. I get lost in my mind. My hopes are always to high and my nose always itches. I do believe that means someone special is thinking about me. I’m in love with two men. One, I fear, is a boy yet. I turned 50 when I was 16. When a door closes, I’ll open a window and normally land face first in the pavement. Sometimes there has been a mattress…others, I have deserved the fall. I color my hair and spend loads of money on it, excusing my actions because this symbolizes change. I’m saving for an apartment and car but am going to make a tattoo appointment because I’ve wanted this longer and don’t have those responsibilities at the moment. I justify my actions very well and creatively. I want to marry rich to a man that I love. The voiceless work in fear, the fearless work hard to speak and sing for the voiceless. The voiceless seem to almost never get the memo. The fearless moves forward and making the best of the life. 



I work multiple jobs to enjoy a variety of personalities in different atmospheres. All my cares about my money, all my cares about my future can’t steal the satisfaction I gain from helping people prospering. I want to play instruments, but if others could do it for me while I sing, that’d be divine. I would love to design outfits, but you can sew them. I would enjoy interior design, but you can help make up my mind. I’m not lazy, simply indecisive. I try to spell your name and it drives me crazy enough to let it fly away in a paper airplane….crumpled, stomped on only into the hands of someone else before they throw you away. There’s still more paper. I’ll get over you when you let me.


Life is a beauty. Life is a hot mess. Life has its tragedies and its bliss. I’m not passive, but I’ll choose bliss overall. I’ll mess up a whole crowd of people if it means obedience to God. Its often hard to just sweet talk when I was old news to you then. I’m not one to be surface. We are black and white. Friends or not. Dating or not. Glued or separate and broken. You’re the man, you choose. I slept through the summer while you made lies to make this linger. I shout I’m fine and all is fair, but I sleep and have nightmares I believe to derive from the stress you place in mind and on my shoulders. I wish you’d leave. Or stay. Decide. I’m indecisive. To think you thought to yourself of me, “I deserve you.” Grow up and a pair, a chip on the shoulder, dot your T’s and tell me when your mind’s made up.


The best way to predict your future is to create it. So I’ll pretend to paint until I can, play the piano until I feel “I’m the man!” Be the cool cat at your parties until I’m the center of attention. Make cats cool to the dog lovers. Wearing my heart on my sleeve, all about high hopes and transparency. They knock it down like a sludge hammer on a red bell, pride awards them “wise.” I disagree.


I get lost in my mind.




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