You Can Call Me Sally
My name is really Bud, but you can call me Sally. I’m the other woman.
You lie, sneak and cheat for me. I’m in your blood. You need me and love me more than your wife and family. I always win.
She cries and begs you to leave me as I sit back and laugh with my feet propped up waiting. She worries and I don’t care. You’ll always come to me.
She can smell me on you, I’m in your every breath and pore. Its fun when you lie and hide me. It’s my favorite game. You say “I’m done with you”, but I toss my head back and laugh. You’ll be back. I know.
I’m even familiar to your friends. They love me too. I’m a whore. I get around and I am everywhere. I don’t even have to be near, and you think of me. You think of me every minute of every day. Your mouth gets wet for me. You need to taste me. You want me. I bring you comfort. I put you to sleep. Who needs a wife when you have me. I’m always within reach.
I have seduced and murdered your family, and yet you still love me.
I cause heartache and grief, it’s my joy. You need me and want me so much. I am elated to know that I will be in your blood when you say your final goodbye. I will move on.
You have kids that need me too. I’m working on one right now. He’s thinking of me too. There’s enough of me to go around. I’m not faithful to anyone and I love men, women and children. Maybe a little part of me will worm into the brain of the tiniest ones. That is my hope. I’m not selective. I’m a whore.
I’m shameless. You can use me any time, anywhere and I will always come back. I’m always here for you. I will love you and come to you. Hold me and bring me to your lips. Again and again. I’m all you need. I’ll follow you anywhere. I’ll help you drive, I’ll go to work with you. I am always here. You love me.
I’m waiting patiently for you to leave your wife. I love you more. She’s no match for me. I am winning. You love me more.
Sally❤️
2020
2:00am musings of a post menopausal insomniac mind
Never Again
I don't remember grabbing the knife from the kitchen drawer. I just remember hearing whimpering coming from Kayla's room, and seeing his figure looming over her, his hand creeping under her blankets, and then rage. Hot, trembling, blinding rage. Not her. Not like me.
It happened in mere minutes. I caught a glimpse of Kayla's face, twisted with dread and fear like mine had been so many times before. Then something took over me. I wasn't myself anymore, just bloodlust and adrenaline.
The next thing I saw was my own white-knuckled fist plunging the knife into his back. He screamed. I screamed. Tears clouded my vision as I yanked the knife out and drove it into his shoulder, then the side of his neck, my heart pounding so loudly in my ears that I could barely hear his screams.
Then, it was over.
He lay slumped over on Kayla's bed, a crack of light from the open door falling on his still figure and the pool of crimson spreading rapidly beneath him. Kayla cowered in the corner, weeping.
The room began to spin around me and I dropped to my knees. I looked down at my hands in disbelief, unsure whether they were the same hands that had just taken my father's life.
He'd stolen my innocence and stained my childhood, yes, but did I really just kill him? Had I just taken a man's life? What would happen to me? To Kayla?
I felt hot and sick and my hands couldn't stop shaking, but the smallest hint of a smile crept upon my lips despite myself.
He couldn't hurt us anymore. Never again.
Murderer
I feel their blood running over my cold, bare hands. It feels alive although the person it belonged to is anything but. It is as though it is dancing around. Daring me to do something. I want to scream, cry, run.
It is weird becoming the thing you had always been most afraid of. Part of me- the part that is the old me- wants to turn myself in, get what I think I deserve but the other part- the new part- wants to do it again. I felt such a rush, such a relief when I knew the heart had finally given up the fight and stopped.
It is midnight and the moon is brighter than I had ever seen it. It lit up the body and the thin smile that is beginning to form on my lips. I have done it. I didn’t backed out. If I were able to tell anyone else, anyone who really knew me, I think they might congratulate me. I have done it. I have beaten myself.
There is no immense guilt, no weight that suddenly dropped on my shoulders the moment the blade touched the back of my first kill. In fact, I feel wonderful. Their last breaths were ragged, desperate and I nearly laughed but caught myself. I am not crazy. Only crazy people laugh after they kill someone and I am not crazy. There have been many perfectly sane people who have been murderers and now, I am joining the club.
Murderer. I like the way it feels coming out of my mouth, like it has always wanted to slip out but never quite could. It feels like power, like accomplishment. Like strength. Why, you may ask, did I kill someone? Why had I, a young man with “such promise” seemingly thrown my life away? Anger. Anger can do anything when played with, poked enough in just the right way and now, now I am free of the anger and ready to continue on with my life.
I am ready to become the new part of me fully. Murderer. People who frustrate me in the worst possible form of the word, I am not afraid of them anymore. I can now just laugh at them with that calm laugh that people give when they know something you don’t.
Power can do much to a man and I am ready to exploit it, to use my newfound gift to its fullest. I smile again, a cruel smile that showed all my teeth, a smile a kid may have when told they were getting the newest, coolest video game but my eyes, they told it all.
Water
surge is
soaring Water Water the
shaking is cheek giggle
the the your of
is tear on a
Water crystallizing child
is waves
Water the roaring Water
puddle strangled the is
a scream 'neath the
in of pulled sloshing splashing a man of
and as it
gulp slurp wave wanders
you and the near
when sip of and the
belly Water whisper far is
your is the Water
eminently Water IS
the rhymable is
definable force Water
chemically behind is
the all Water
unfathomable our lives
The Secret
Blood spatter bright,
Beneath the cold midnight light,
Of a late October moon,
Where our love has met its doom,
I weep in profound remorse,
Where my hand has dealt its course,
Of events I had no control,
While the midnight bell did toll,
Your life soon will be ended,
From the mortal wound untended,
Your life's force outward flows from your wound,
Though long since you have swooned,
The perfume in your hair,
Still lingers in the midnight air,
As you die here in my arms,
I still, succumb to your charms,
My hot tears, wet upon your face,
Mixed with my feelings of shame and disgrace,
You never now will know dear,
Just what it is to know fear,
My obsessions now made clear,
My secret now you know dear,
That I have lived two separate lives,
Because I have had two wives.
This crimson blade of steel,
That somehow seems unreal,
Will mix your blood with mine,
Where the sun shall never shine,
In my heart I now impale,
I do this, without fail,
Our bloods of deepest red,
Both flowing like a watershed,
Now too, my life is over,
Beneath this field of crimson clover,
On the late October moon,
Where our love has met its doom.