Hmm very nice but you need to add more commas for your tears. Also when you’re tearing your hair out in frustration at the futility of the world lay off the caps lock, thank you. Okay now continue pouring out your feelings for our supreme judgement and never ending criticism *snort snort*.

Poets have it rough, I’ve got serious respect for anyone who tries to pursue the flighty career of poetry. It ain’t no walk in the park, more like an obstacle course from hell with people critiquing your use of iambic pentameter and semi colons. Oh yeah well let me shove something up your semi colon you self righteous holier than thou critical- Oh you liked it? Well then… thanks for your “constructive criticism” we’ll be in touch.

Her Memoirs

Nobody puts their personal life on display more than poets do.
We make our heartaches sound grammatically pleasing.

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Love, Love, Love

A burst of vivacious positivity in a bleak grey world. CRAWFISH FOR THA WIN SUCKAS! Now let’s get productive! For the crawfish.

*chest pound*
Word

Lyrical Fool

lloyd-dobler

This past weekend, somewhere between the house cleaning, the hair-twisting tooth-pulling (i.e., writing), the crawfish, and the general aches and pains, I realized that I love my life.

I mean. I REALLY love my life.

Sure, I could do with a maid that appeared when I snapped my fingers, a bit more financial security, and a bit less 9-5, but I  REALLY do love my life.

I don’t know the last time that I felt that. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt that.

It’s a Lloyd Dobler-holding-a-boom-box kind of love, and I serenaded it with family and sunshine and splurging on some really, really good crawfish.

I love it so much that I actually canceled Netflix.  It’s probably temporary, and yes, I’ve already seen this season of House of Cards (as evidenced by a higher water bill from all of the showers I had to take to rinse the…

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