sugar

she gave them #sugar
honestly
enough to sweeten the deal
not poison it

#katyamills

partly sunny good chance for showers without you

i can say i have been honest with you, but my words sit on the hands of the clock, beside the point. the point is a solitary entry. markedly confident, rather lonely. a circle to itself. a hole in the moon. a vacancy. divided from the rest. full of its own opinion. terminally unique. you cannot know you can trust me, until you know you can trust someone. all the greatest liars in the world would have you believe they are abe lincoln honest. i miss you. it's partly sunny here. good chance for showers without you.

future.past.present

My future

innocent

untouched
pure

delicately woven
by my touch

i cry
to think
upon



My past is

starved
pale
and dark

thinking about it

i burst into
tears

sometimes



My life now

simple
not effortless

thrilling
not lonely

creation
behind the
keys

just

 
right


KatYa

Do Not Resuscitate (Journal # 05.24)

No one would wish not to have memory, and no one could argue that living in the moment was easier without it. I had a past I wanted to lose. I thought about it, and this was the problem. I liked a cemetery very much, I found it easier to talk to the ones who were gone cause the dead don't lie to your face or play games. Forgiveness is unresponsive until you breathe some life into it. The First Aid classes do not teach us how. Only the living carry Do Not Resuscitate orders on their wrists. I got over the memories but my subconscious could not let go, all the old situations appeared in different configurations in my sleep.

All I can do is put on my most comfortable slip and fold myself into my most comfortable sheets, rest my head on my most comfortable pillow, with the sweetest feeling of air pushed by blades, accompanied by my furry friends and the softest light on the backs of prayers I hum into space.

vas deferens. carried away.

that's a lie
a contraction
predicated by
a lie

a contradiction
fighting
my own
diction

maybe me
poet
wanna
be

should go to get inspired
to the sea
bring jack kerouac
big sur
small wonder
he fell to his death
on the rocks

that's a lie
on the rocks
that's drunk
to the teeth
that's tight
constricted

predictable
something easily
predicted

the one who 'plays'
with words

added to a
peurile
penile
vaginal
flow

masturbatory
that's a lie
'cause after you're done?

find yourself
lonesome
exposed
in the sun

the milky substance
the texture
the scent
this is true

indeed
on paper
true

don't let them say adam
don't let them say eve
don't let them say loins
the butcher turns
blue

write away
right away
while the world outside
waits

that's a lie
Kafka knew
burned all his books


that's a lie plus a
lie plus size
sky

add the earth
let half the wildlife
die

the spermozoa
the egg the
vas deferens

this is true
cause
we all
get
carried
away

don't say white
don't say black
say fifty shades of grey

gray
grey
over
play

bundle it up
under your arm
a mess of sticks
the faggots
for kindle

take them together
walk them out
to the world

watch the pieces drop out
behind you

see yourself in them
the dropouts

horizontal
vertical
thrust
thrust
open
hearted
come
shot

true

© Katya Mills, 2014

Rolling Allostasis Revisited

Then as life goes you find you get into something so completely, your persona, you know, what you do, maybe it's also your purpose. You are flooded by it, simply deluged by something no matter how big or small, valuable or cheap, honest or sold... then you look around and find that many people know more than they let on, maybe more than they think they know anyway. Maybe they act like they know. Maybe they know how to act like they know. Maybe they know nothing. Maybe they know they know nothing.

Maybe you're in trouble. Maybe in need of ssris or deficiency restorative vitamin shots. Maybe you need a friend. Maybe you have been befriended, but befriended's not enough. Maybe you must be be witched. Maybe you need to eat a sandwhich. Maybe you need a who, what, when, where, or which? Maybe you do not know how. Maybe you tipped a cow. Maybe you need to stuff your face with facebook friends. Maybe not.

Did you include your exclusive in your earthquake kit? Tape your affirmation tape to your thigh? Or maybe they have been overdone, your fears and worries.What if theres nothing the hell wrong with you, anyway? Just experiencing lots of feelings, every day, just feeling your way into life? What if good news ceded from a thorough understanding? What if you can take those worries and put those fears in the archive; zipped, compressed, silenced.

You become salt.You become larger than your sediment trail. You travel horizontal, vertical, and your journey loses steam but gathers momentum. You are way off track. The meaning increases strength on the y-variable continuum. The x-variable gets jealous and steals percentage. The z-constant puts x in chex. Accepts no substitute. Tastes best with y and x. Don't ask why, go on to the next.

Truth with truth. A wholesome meal. More than a steal. Always relative, sometimes changing, hard to define, exacerbating cultures dis ease, serves her right, culture! With a side of yogurt for acidophilus contagion. Served on a platter to memorialize the cajun. Always tryin to come off as ‘fine’. Fucked up, insane, numb, emotionless. Probably headed to the liquor store to check out again on wine. Achilles heel you cant smother under that blanket of persona perfecta you present to the world...gotta be your shaking hands.

You're Shaking hands-- with your divine.

By Katya W. Mills
03/13/2013
http://katyamills.com
http://kissilent.wordpress.com