Women of a certain age and gender

Women of a certain age and gender

I am done with your gender.

All you have ever brought me is a tortured hunger.

All I have become is a self imprisoned man gazing at your

God given allures and emaciated this stomach into a barren acid pool

To make room for you

I have yearned to love in this walking circle closed in like a confined sheep

Bleating and senseless, ignorant and hopeful under double standards of emotional

Hay disbursements, I will give you everything and that is why you will never love me

Maybe if I made you starve, Stockholm syndrome you out of your illogical mind

Maybe if I act disrespectful you will distort logic to contrive a reason to respect me

As if I am what I appear to be absent of illusion I am boring and stark

Pass me over and find a man that is a challenge

I know I am ugly, short; not ideal.  I take care of my body; it will never make a difference.  I do not expect to be drafted highly or at all.  Maybe one of you will be wandering and desperate.  I am willing to work at an interstate exit with such odds.

This gastric bypass is not working, the enzymes are churning in a washing machine function of none berating me daily and today I am done

Go fuck yourselves, the infinite nation of ninety nine percent, because that is all I have left to plan to do for myself

Find a love in a trash can I would rather rot in this hell than contrive to your passive aggressive war games.  Living in this small pond of mismatched delusion of beauty and knowledge being opposites to abscond any rational thought to correlate support beyond the width and height shoulders begin and spread. 

I am a nothing bombarded under years of emotional weapons.

Critical and coy and all this time alone and as soon as you have me I no longer have any home that is mine, it is your play thing to spurn any attention, connection as the deed to my being.

Respect is a joke and love returned is a one side tied-down rope.  No reliability in the structured chemistry of this geometry.  Well, well, I am in hell with all of you, no touch, no say, no voice and no day has every made sense.  The women I thought I knew none of them now suggest any measure of the truth upon which I once relied.  All of the detachment a gender margin for error and change of mind of what you are allowed that I am denied.

So fuck you.  Go be happy with other men.  Quit this want in me to ever know companionship again.  Just let me ball in my butter of bitter, sour milk and rotten eggs and no place, but this sliver

I know nothing at thirty two or whatever age I am just happy fucking birthday to a totally fucked up man.  I am so inconsolably sad, depressed whatever you want to call it.  I just want something to work out for once, just once.  God says be kind.  God says learn well.  I passed every subject, but school yard and I am a failure in every possible regard.

When it comes to human connections I am a pariah with voiceless words and selfish corroded dimensions, just slay this body on the street, next to concrete and death, bloody for Monday and streaming regrets.  

I just want one of you, not all, not more, I will be true, love happily for all the years of my being, but I have fallen, I am down, I have no more energy and resigned to know that I will never find, I will die here alone 

Praying on occasion for a God that never speaks and I look up in moments, but it all seems so incomplete.  I see what I think and what I pray and what I wish would change each day, but it doesn’t, it doesn’t, it never does.

My boss hates me and calls me a freak that nobody likes and my career outlook is so bleak, despite all the learning and knowledge from books that is irrelevant in this land of country folks is folks and hoofs.  You failed school yard son, don’t you remember can’t go back and take that one over there is no room left or any semester

You sat in a library gave up trying.  You could speak, you could swim, you could win class president, but nobody ever knew you, nobody cared, one friend in hundreds and even he does not live here.  Everyone ran from this vagabond land of idiot kings and passionate springs and you are in with the wrong crowd as wrong crowds can be

If the crab queen fits in and rules this establishment than surely you are not meant to be

Here or anywhere near.  You are such an asshole for even trying to steer a cutter through these shores with your hull eternally moored up on the jagged nothing of being a man alone

I give up