I always wait till the last minute

Too blurt out how I feel

Wait till it’s too late

And I have, in my mind,

Irrevocably ruined everything.

Have built things so far

That they are ready to collapse

Into a heap of mess

That can’t be untangled.

For complicated creatures

We take simple things for granted

Weave thoughts of our own I

Till they have a life of their own

And we are caught up in it.

In us,

In problems we have made .

Even now when I know I am to blame

I refer to our collective

As if my faults are the faults of all I know.

Because the solidarity in mistakes

Is just as lonely

As the product of the situation

Which I have created

By not opening my mouth in the first place .

And now opening it all over the place

Spewing once sensical thoughts

As nonsense.


Excerpt#20: It’s Steak Season

She mentally cursed Chase for what seemed the thousandth time that evening. As she did another rep on “The Mermaid” (otherwise known as the 45 Degree Back Hypertension for all you workout buffs), she came back up to find the trainer quickly look away to avoid eye contact. She sighed. This had been going on through the last hour and became increasingly awkward by the second. Screw you Chase, she thought as she went down for another rep, holding the 10 lbs as an anchor to her increasing annoyance.

It really was Chase’s fault. If he had switched gyms with her, she wouldn’t have signed up for a free promotional training session and if she hadn’t had the training session, she wouldn’t have been in this awkward position of having declined future sessions because she was essentially poor. Poor as in either food or training session-at this point-poor. Although, if she gave up food it might actually help her cause and help her trim down. She paused as she came up to contemplate the thought, then scrapped it as the steak dinner Ray promised to prepare for them tonight made a mental appearance. Going back down, she hoped he would like her mashed potatoes and garlic bread. Yum.

The mental fog of food lust dissipated as she came up to find another trainer staring at her. Great, the two trainers were probably best friends and had speculated on her “poor-ness”. Especially since she had stupidly mentioned to her trainer about her 2 jobs. Well, you try paying for art school supplies and then tell me how much you save. They were probably thinking she was a liar and her butt was too small. Gah.

If she really thought about it, she was probably the one being weird. Being strapped obviously sucked and she did not like explaining to people why she couldn’t do things. That made her bitchy and cranky. She decided not to think about it. She came to the gym to de-stress not think.

She finished her exercise and then went to the locker room to change. She got ready and slinked out of the gym, relieved to have missed the trainers on her way out. Her phone rang as she stepped out. A text from Ray popped up on her screen telling her he was half an hour away. With thoughts of food and her favorite guy filling her mind yet again, she blissfully walked home to take a shower.

Back at the gym as the two trainers finished with their clients, they stopped to chat. 

“So?” Tom gestured at the Back Hypertension machine.

“Nah, she says she can’t afford it.”

“Ah, well, at least her form wasn’t too off. She probably won’t injure anything terribly left to her own devices.”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

“Was she giving you a weird stare?”

“Yeah, you too? I thought I was imagining it.”

“Nah, she was. Probably on that time of the month.”

“You’re probably right. Women get crazy with that shit.”

“Ohhh yeah.”