You Can’t Help Grown People Who Won’t Help Themselves

Everybody has (or knows) one: a friend or family member who refuses to help himself, but who tries as hard as he can to make others feel guilty for his troubles. I’ve no patience for this kind of individual. And when his parasitic behavior starts negatively affecting the life of someone I care about, I just want to scream and scream and scream… until the shrieking force of my will drills some sense into his mind, or at least until his skull cracks a little and most of his teeth fall out.

I’m a championess at the art of denying people of this sort the opportunity to affect me directly. But sometimes, seeing what they do to others is nearly as infuriating. And all I can do is watch… as the leech sucks the life out of a decent human being who deserves much better.

This is my bit of venting for the day. I would like to say for the week, but lies and I don’t see eye to eye. I have to get ready for another hospital visit, but I think I’ll write something dark before I go… maybe something that contains a healthy dose of cracked skulls and gut-felt shrieking.

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Blooming Howlsdetail from “Blooming Howls”, by Gina Morley
inspired by my short story collection of the same name

Asphalt Cries Red

I should know better than to visit the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads on days I scheduled for “no writing”. But I blame it on the Muse’s inability to control her Imagination… and on Marian’s talent to nudge creation… I blame it on Low Shoulder, too… since I can’t listen to “Through the Trees” without bittersweet melodies of love (now loss to this world) “pouring from my eyes”.

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a bright bloom shrivels
when winter is lived too fast
and asphalt cries red

Baby Ghoul, by Gina Morley
Baby Ghoul”, by Gina Morley

A Haiku Soirée

I attended a Vampire’s Day Soirée, and certain darlings (painted by Gina, Shelle and Stacy, respectively) followed me home; the Muse had to haiku them wildly. Here are her just-birthed poem bits (which I’ve linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Tuesday Platform):

lunatics
bloomed wild with the moon
and fanged sheep
Mavis, in “The Beast Within”, by Gina Morley

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darkened skies
in her eyes; her mouth,
a blood pit
Love (detail), by Shelle Kennedy

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a soft wing
cradles her bloodless—
wild dreaming
Dark Pleasures (detail), by MagicLoveCrow

By the way, while we are on the subject of poem bits… Have you voted on Expanding Wee Bits of Dark Fiction and Poetry, 8? If not, you have until the end of today to choose which bit you wish me to develop into longer poetry or flash fiction. Follow the link to cast your votes, my Luvs. 😉