Eccentric Tea Woman

  I wonder what it will be like When it is all over. She asked me to comb her hair Yet I refused; at least, I still Have that choice. Promise, my love, That you will not waste such Freedoms on me. Pain is merely an art, One that comes with tongues wagging. It’s not her, but I wish it was Me. Viridian Tea company - Strange and Unusual Tea Blends! Click HERE for the ETSY store link!

  (Tea Muse portrait by Brittany Lewis ) Tea Muse: (reading the latest issue of Imaginary People Magazine) Did you know that almost every famous person has an imaginary friend? Wow! Me:  . . . . .  Tea Muse: (glancing over the top of the magazine) Hey, you okay? What's up? Me: (sighing) I'm getting old.  Tea Muse: Yeah and?  Me: I remember when I used to go to the Goth clubs, dance for hours, and pass out with a black lipstick smile. Or, when I used to play a sneering Vemtrue in Vampire the Masquerade. Or, when I collected all of the Goth magazines. Or when I -  Tea Muse: (holding up a hand to shut me up) I get it, I get it!  Me: It's easy for you! You're immortal AND imaginary! You can do whatever you want whenever you want! Me? I went into Crate & Barrel the other day . . . and I liked it. ARGH! Tea Muse: (giggling) Oh. My. God. Are you going through a (whispering) Goth Midlife Crisis? Me: THAT'S IT! (looking around) Is that a thing? Tea Muse: Sure, silly! It&

  Peel back layers of skin -  Raw, exposed but not bloody. Discover truths that died When people took over the Earth, killing the dinosaurs With cigarettes and coffee, a deadly habit, A vice they learned to love. Can we, a people, a race of skin Accept this notion that we die From the moment we scream into existence? Too harsh on the weak and simple brain Even though we use only 10% of it. Time dropping, longingly, on windows like a Dali, Forcing us to see ourselves fading Black becoming grey to white to falling      Rotting      Destroy Into that Void, the space of what we skin fear And created. Do you remember when we laughed? Joy came in vending machines And sex was dead, only touch was acceptable, Permitted. Now, it is bland, no flavor, stark And we skin cry rivers Our mistakes, our wars, refusal to accept this Simple truth To lie to ourselves, reminds us of our parents Back in the day. The cold set in, our  cold, our  unfeeling My, yours, everyone’s fault. This is a time to sing