Daughters of descending dusk

This week’s post on Hijacked Amygdala

hijacked amygdala

Who was that girl, covered in cheap thrill?

the one who got so happy when you looked her way

who drew you paintings

kept your dirty shirt

pushed you on the swing-set even though we both weighed too much

days of over-size flannel and Doc Martens

Smashing Pumpkins versus Hole

you said I looked like

Ione Skye

you didn’t resemble

John Cusack

while the studious exchange students with excitement hangovers

wouldn’t climb out of their window and meet in the high weeds park

even by then I knew how to have sex in public without my skirt getting wet

who needed second base?

go all the way and work backwards

you weren’t the wrong choice were you?

wearing eyeliner and forgetting birth control

all then, a bad trick in adolescent undergrowth

slurs are girls with provocation

before social media calumny

dimpled notes

inking who gives the best head

who has…

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16 thoughts on “Daughters of descending dusk

  1. Ok I am serious when I say this, Hot Damn you are on a roll with these masterpieces. I think emotion feeds on you because you can express it so well.

    I know it must be painful to have depression, but you once told me the most painful things create the poetry. And well you create the best poetry. But,I wish for your pain to go away.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I left this comment at hijacked amygdala.

    A master of poetic craft and a memory flash to the good old times.

    This line got me:

    how can a song collapse a heart?

    wishbone shaping the way like Baba Yaga’s dance of skeletons

    A song or any song of that matter moves the heart emotionally, & painfully.
    Baba Yaga the skeletons is a metaphor of things we are afraid of and wish not to be, but to confront the dark in our most inner strength and ward off the demons that lurk our way.

    Beautifully written as always sis. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  3. for all the girls with dry skirts,
    I whisper hymns of praise
    for all the girls with battered lips
    i beg for such displays

    say anything, say nothing
    say the lying truth
    say what you will
    at least until
    you lose a tooth

    for all the boys with unsmoked weed
    i grumble prayers of want
    for all the boys with flapping lips
    i damned you to that haunt

    say anything, say nothing
    say the truest lie
    say what you won’t
    or please, just don’t
    sex is really why

    for all the unhumped rest
    i gargle on my knees
    for all the unhumped with moisten’d lips
    i offer my disease

    say anything, say nothing
    say the thing you know
    say what you will
    i’ll wait until
    you realize it ain’t so

    Like

  4. So goddamn gorgeous..and that loud thumping you heard in the background is my heart when you said, “Ione Skye” Gods, i was so in love with that crooked smile of hers. Love!!

    (Sorry if I posted this twice.)

    Liked by 1 person

      1. I am watching it, yes. I love it so far. Ian McShane is so damn good as an actor. It’s perfect.

        If the crooked smile fits, my dear, then it only reinforces my view of your beauty. 🙂 ♡

        Liked by 1 person

  5. (Had to leave a copy of my Hijacked Amygdala here as well.) 😉

    So often, after I read one of your poems I am left with inadequate words to describe the tremendous emotion, feelings, memories, and thoughts your amazing poetry evokes in me. What a beautifully nostalgic poem, with a contemporary feel. I must confess even though I have never been the type that could remember the long list of movies any actor/actress has been in, I do like John Cusack, but had to google who Ione Skye was… I suck at pop culture trivia, lol…. I think it’s some sort of mental defect I have, I’m the same way with music… I love music, all kinds, but don’t have a list of artists or their song titles readily available for my brain to recall… hence I really suck at name that tune as well…. wow, I really wondered off topic on this comment haha ღ

    Like

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