confession booth

invisibility

thenudebootysnatcher — Sat, 15 Jun 2013 13:03:00 -0400

please try to remember

i am not another jigsaw puzzle piece

with the intent of completing your map of

targeted conquests.

the soft-spoken ones don’t seem to be

paid attention to as much as the

raucous, boisterous and shameless laughs obnoxiously

voiced over the gazes of shy, introverted girls

smoky fog throws you even further

into oblivion while wrapping an

invisibility cloak around me so i can

hide and stare in longing,

analyzing and asking myself what

i’m doing wrong in this game of cat and mouse

dance floors and basements are dark,

secret passageways into oblivion

ignore the whispers of laced and

sequined booby traps out to

leave a heart-shaped scar from the soul-sucking

and i’ll dream of the day i find my way in

semantics, ii.

thenudebootysnatcher — Wed, 29 May 2013 04:20:23 -0400

open your vocal jack-in-a-box

and let the springy, red punching glove

hit me square in the nose and

knock the wind out of my breath right

into my eyes.

i used to cower and

retreat in fear, sometimes

unable to imprison the tears and

watch the salty drops roll down my cheeks, smooth sailing

on the curved skin leading towards defeat.

today, i stood alone,

covered in dirt and rubble from

the trembling, unsteady walls in my chest that were meant to

protect

and shield me from the queen bee’s sting,

even though it’s pollen season;

“when you fall down, you’ve got to get right back on that horse.”

tomorrow

i will take cement from the stories engraved in my brain,

use special stickers to differentiate each brick and

build a new safe haven.

your words may sting, but no longer

will they define my being and personality

the cave is deeper, but the rocks are now stronger and

i will climb out, away from darkness into the light

demons from the past and present will stay

buried six feet deep, sealed in a mason jar and

locked in a password-protected cage restricted to all.

humans are soul-suckers and

i’d rather decay in front of your eyes than

reveal the inner beauty that yearns to be free.

you are not worth opening up to and

you do not deserve to see the truth, caused by

blindness, ignorance and your trifling ass

acting like a fool

color me peached with your sharp tongue, and

i’ll still be the most beautiful belle of the ball after

the clock strikes midnight

one lucky person will never have to

worry about hearing the words, “access denied” while

the other lab rats halt their goose chase and

flee.

take a hint and leave before

my shovel digs its way into your soul and

i unleash the demons from within.

i will make your life a fucking hell.

semantics

thenudebootysnatcher — Sat, 04 May 2013 15:20:43 -0400

“child abuse

(Social Welfare) physical, sexual, or emotional ill-treatment or neglect of a child, especially by those responsible for its welfare “

the dictionary does not agree

with mom and dad’s definition of the term, therefore

it must be false. does that mean

it doesn’t count if you weren’t put in a coma like brother dearest, even though

mother was the culprit? does

your statement become irrelevant because

people’s brains work differently and

semantic priming is a justifiable reason to

deny the truth?

horseshit.

PARENTS cannot

DEFINE a traumatic experience when

THEY are the culprits who pushed you over the edge long ago. tell me,

mother dearest, where were you when

your child needed support? did

hiding behind your own cowardice help you avoid

dealing with a problem that your spawn is forced to LIVE WITH for

the rest of her life after you sent daddy to the hounds? where were you when

monsters snatched her childhood away; something so

irreplaceable

priceless

valuable just vanished in a

flash

back down memory lane on a

monday, after school from the first day of 7th grade:

“if you don’t tell me the truth right now, i’m going to kill you.”

coiled fingers around her neck and

cold, black, empty irises; a result of your

soul-sucking demons who wanted to come out and play. but

“come out and play” doesn’t mean terrorize your daughter,

send her to the noose in the kitchen so she can

repent for her sins and pretend

it never happened

slap her senseless for trying to do the right thing

negative reinforcement only goes so far, so why not

push it a little further to

make sure she won’t fuck it up again? assuming

there will be a next time, of course.

children are human and don’t always know better; can’t

you see yourself with every blow you strike across her face?

every bruise left on her arm

shoulder

leg

stomach

thighs where nobody will see the pain

masked away in a shitty “safe zone” created with the best ingredients

force-fed to her in a shitty situation

and you wonder why, one morning,

she had the AUDACITY to decide for herself

enough is enough. but sure,

blame it on the symptoms of the underlying disease instead of

solving the root of the equation; fail to

RECOGNIZE the problem from within that needs to change

COMMUNICATE with your kid and bring her closer instead of

pushing her away with words and body parts.

the day you’ll want to utter a half-assed “sorry” will be the day it’s too late.

past, present, future

thenudebootysnatcher — Tue, 30 Apr 2013 12:00:00 -0400

today, i sat next to robert smith

thirty-five years ago. my sister sat comfortably,

shielded by the various membranes inside her carrying mother-to-be’s

warm belly, gently reminding her that

painful kicks are only a sign

she will make her debut appearance soon.

my mother hadn’t even thought of me then. nor did she start

seventeen years later, when i came out of hiding from the evils i would face.

but no one told her that

demons don’t disappear while pressing the fast forward button in your mind—i had to

find out for myself and unravel

fifty years of distant, shriveled photographs burned to ashes

in her brain, where a ballerina spins gracefully,

innocently,

receptive to the world’s resources around her.

but the pristine doll accumulates problems coupled with

untreated anxiety and unmanaged tempers boiling from childhood

downtotheground

andclingstogether to create a mass of

sperm-hot lava turning into

anger, fear and rage spread on

faces, limbs and bones, crumbling away with every

new sunrise and sundown. tomorrow, i will sit next to

children going to school with a parent or sibling and question

how many survivors will break free of their masks before

someone else gets to it first.

anesthesia

thenudebootysnatcher — Tue, 22 Jan 2013 03:29:00 -0500

the gift that keeps on giving is

a mere myth when the emotional dam overflows and

floods through the gates that lead to the one-way street of friendship.

the demolition of once impenetrable brick walls protecting my heart was

probably the biggest mistake i’ve had the regret of making since trying to

plant acacia seeds and watching them morph into daffodils, with time and nourishment.

patience is a virtue i have yet to acquire; i’m running

low on pink slips and the final sheet is

pinned to the frozen chest hidden by veins, body fat and bones.

it’s only a matter of time before i’m vacuumed

back into the black hole i merely escaped from so long ago, swallowed whole by

magenta petals and dark green vines sent out to

peer through the cracks and shatter me into reflective shards

once more. but how many times can one krazy glue another being back together?

flowers can only stand for so long before they start to wilt

the days are numbered and the clock is ticking;

snooze buttons will not make you face the reality

open your eyes before the demons kidnap your soul

safe.

thenudebootysnatcher — Tue, 15 Jan 2013 04:30:00 -0500

i hung up the phone and spun my head in a clockwise manner, lifting my hand to my forehead, so i could scope you out from the floating bodies chilling on the streets of paris. my pulse kicked loudly against my skin while my heart tried to break free from the walls confining it to the cavity over my left breast.

my subconscious fast forwarded the next two hours in my brain and behind a moving bus, i caught it. your toothy smile and short, spiky silver hair dyed just in time for Crazy Hair Day. you flashed a grin at me and i pummeled you to the floor, tears blurring my vision knowing that this disbelief i felt less than a year ago was justified. i wasn’t delusional;

you were hiding from me, after all.

i exclaimed my joy and how wonderful it was to see you, but

in this movie, the director cut to the next scene:

ten hours of sleep and

no recollection of what just played in my head.

i stumbled across a picture of you i posted a few days ago and

it started to hail bricks of emotion in my central nervous system. but maybe

i’m supposed to learn something from it. there’s a slight chance

you could be my guardian angel and i don’t even know it. either way,

i sat down and started to process the message you left me.

thank you for stopping by last night. i can

rest easy, knowing that at least

you’ll be there to protect me now.

RIP Roch. 1990-2012

robotic cues

thenudebootysnatcher — Fri, 07 Dec 2012 15:10:00 -0500

my thoughts are competing with one another in a race to see which of the more irrational ones can make it to the finish line first and convince me that the gaping black hole inside my chest is out to engulf me and trap me in the darkness for the rest of my life.

the light at the end of the tunnel doesn’t exist because i forgot to pay the electric bill and the neurons have disconnected themselves from the low and dispersed serotonin levels and high chemical imbalance in my brain.

the simplest tasks become chores and i’m krazy glued to my bed, a prisoner of my head but

i don’t want your help or bail pills;

spoon-fed drugs to “help” me

become a more “functional and acceptable member of society”

you know what i think of your pharmaceutical poison? you can take that and

shove it up your ass with your chemically-altering and numbing garbage

i will not be your zombie at my emotional expense when

the highs become normal while the lows hit

even lower depths i never imagined possible

i’d rather feel the imbalance than

shut up and pretend i’m fine

let me suffer in silence and

go through the motions for once. at least i know

one day this is something i could potentially overcome.

maybe.

dear diary

thenudebootysnatcher — Tue, 16 Oct 2012 01:37:03 -0400

Getting out of bed is easily the most difficult thing in the world right now.

I never really had anyone to trust as a kid… growing up alone never made things easier for me because my relationship with my family has been strained for as long as I can remember. I mean,

when your first memories include one where you see your mother beating your sister with your jump rope, you’re bound to have some sort of childhood trauma that’ll scar you for a solid fifteen years, at least.

I have no one to talk to in this family where therapy is frowned upon because “you’re supposed to dust the problems off your shoulders and keep marching with your head held high.” medication is a pharmaceutical scam preying on the minds of weaklings who cannot channel their raging emotions from the chemical imbalance in their brains and use it to do something good with themselves—something that will help them wake up in the morning and not feel completely hopeless.

I don’t know what my purpose is in this world and I

have absolutely nothing to live for anymore.

The thing about depression is… well, it kind of sneaks up on you. It’s an accumulation of all the seemingly insignificant events in your lifetime coupled with the self-doubt and questioning of every value and belief once engraved in the small parts of your brain; every right you once stood up for, thinking that somehow—someday, you’d be able to change the world and become the next superhero, the future’s inspiration for the next generation of children who will grow up feeling alone and small in a big world full of opportunities, dreams, and people who cannot relate to their peers who have a more stable life, be it socio-economic or emotional.

But you won’t be the next generation’s savior.

You once stood tall and proud, high school diploma in hand, full of accomplishments, brightly glowing in the aura that contours your silhouette, blinding all but tunneling your vision into the future. Everyone is engaged in a lengthy discussion about your intelligence and how much of a bright, young individual you are; “you have a bright future ahead of you!” “you can do so many things with yourself; you’re going to be a big person someday.”

each and every single person in the auditorium has been fooled by the external mountains you climbed, watching the flag that you planted at the top wave in the wind as you stand there, wishing the internal struggles could only be this easy.

Pick out the individuals and smile. Smile gracefully and wave, wave with your fingers goodbye to the life you once tried to design for yourself, surrounded by walls in a carefully constructed maze no one is supposed to break free from; you spent all your time chasing the mice who tried to eat the cheese and now

you’ve become one of them,

trapped in your own labyrinth with no emergency exits for any

last-minute unplanned catastrophes when

the world is collapsing from within and you’re at the core

center of everything that is going wrong; there’s no quick fix

no daddy or mommy to call to get you out of this one, darling.

you created this mess for yourself and now you must

pay

the consequences

fictional work in progress; "mommy and daddy"

thenudebootysnatcher — Mon, 08 Oct 2012 03:15:43 -0400

i’m in a mental state of imbalance and a physical state of health.

all i can think about is how badly i want to dangle my legs over the rooftop of the neighboring building so i can jump, cracked like an egg only to splatter all over the flying concrete so everyone can see my insides and how they used to work so doctors could see how i would have developed as a human being who sped up the process of murdering her body.

i want to be held i want to be loved i want to be reassured that things will be okay and believe what people say when they tell me i’m beautiful and strong and i have so much going for me but all i can see in the reflection is a broken version of me with scattered, peeling pieces of scotch tape and krazy glue all over my body while trying to function in a vicious society.

i’ve managed to fool one thousand one hundred eighty five people that i’m beautiful and strong and that i have a good life ahead of me filled with success and promise. but all i can do is sit in a corner facing north and leaning west against a radiator in a famous chain of bookstores located in the unforgiving heart of one of the most beautiful places in the world.

i was not cut out for this.

i’m sorry i’m sorry so fucking sorry i’m a let down and a failure and i’m not living up to anyone’s expectations and after i finally die everyone will be so disappointed and question others trying to figure out where and when things went wrong and why couldn’t they see what it was so fucking obvious all along that something wasn’t right inside of me?

actually make it a little over one thousand two hundred people if we have to count family members, too. they were the ones who were supposed to fix me help me feel safe and complete but what do you do when they’;re the ones who shattered you to pieces in the first place? who can you turn to when what’s supposed to be every human’s number one support system refuses to acknowledge and understand the pain they’ve caused you? the torment they put you through?

i want to help i want to save but

i cannot be helped nor can i be saved from

the desires and tantalizing voices in my brain

who can fix me? who can stop me from the madness i’m living and the suffering I’m enduring on a daily basis because it’s so fucking hard NOT to kill myself since apparently it’s all my fault because

depression is self-induced when the demons can’t be seen by anyone else but you

lies

thenudebootysnatcher — Thu, 20 Sep 2012 10:54:00 -0400

her absence is nothing short of normal, but

her presence reigns in the household like the dark shadows of brooding evil spirits waiting to

leech out your soul.

the flap-flaps of shitty soled sandals echo throughout the apartment and only

one door separates them from a potential full-force

intellectual headbutting crash collision. she knows

she fucked up her life and the only “get out of jail free” cards each of them have are

only

trumped by the head honcho who doesn’t know how to improve his quality of life.

he never learned to keep it in his pants, so naturally

all the flies flock towards the dirtiest bag of emotional human waste masked by

a pretty smile, muscles and enough charm to make the ladies swoon.

and of course they’re all fooled by appearances; aren’t older women supposed to know better by now? clearly

their wanton desires take over, coupled with

the potential validation of an older man who uses his poor life choices to spew the truth about life to

the only important woman in his eyes:

don’t let yourself become like any of these women; men only want one thing and they’ll milk you dry until you become empty, useless and move on to the next one.

love is a blindfold leading you towards solitude, failure and rejection.

you’re going to end up alone. no one’s going to stick around if you lay all your cards on the table too soon.

sex trances at a young age can be harmful and

lead to more complicated symptoms of loneliness, such as delusion, loss of touch with reality, worth and self-esteem—eventually resulting in heartbreak and

swearing off men until

your next “prince charming” comes along and

the cycle starts all over again.

goodbye

thenudebootysnatcher — Wed, 22 Aug 2012 03:14:00 -0400

you never forgave him for grabbing what was

left of his manhood and walking out

the door.

stereotypical gender roleplaying sickened him, and you got way

too used to having all the power. between

him and the kids, you had (too)

many options in the scapegoat lottery;

the first person to return your fearful glare was automatically chosen as the victim of the day!

no one wanted to

confront the beast that took over the household clan. here,

matriarchy was the way things ran and

no leader would be chosen at random election. but then

you put your career ahead of your kids’

education and snatched me away from the

short-lived bliss that was seeing

my sisters together as a real family.

he soon followed because you were in control and he had

nowhere to go, just like in the old days

when you two met in 1988.

dispersed and left on their own at the peak

of their young adult years, the gang soon started to

disseminate.

but you took me as a little sheepling because i was too young to make

my own decisions. had i known how

my life would drastically change, i probably wouldn’t have followed you the second time around.

post-divorce

post-tramuatic abuse; i didn’t know

what was in store for me back then, nor did i think

twice to question my actions. because

you were the feared boss in this town, and no one even

dared stand up to fight the injustice…

except for two. and now

we’re much better off without you.

ice monster

thenudebootysnatcher — Mon, 09 Jul 2012 00:31:00 -0400

flowers wither under the blue skies and

my soul cripples around the edges because,

quite frankly,

there was no hope for me.

or for you.

old habits die hard and you can’t

help the unwilling, no matter how much sheer force

you use; you use

and abuse the privileges of this dynamic relationship

without a thought, or

a consequence—remember:

actions speak louder than words

and you want your voice to be heard, not

tossed and

discarded like a wet sock after a severe thunderstorm.

your bloodstream iced itself with

every step you took,

every word you said and all

the lies that followed suit.

false hopes and beliefs reworded to sound genuine and from

the heart. the shell is

impenetrable and now

you’re cut off from any

communication and circulation possible;

maybe you aren’t a human, after all.

whiskey dick

thenudebootysnatcher — Thu, 07 Jun 2012 02:49:00 -0400

the harsh taste of whiskey down my throat brought back memories of

your face,

your smile - an animal’s teeth baring behind

full red lips you used to

cover the marks left on your prey’s neck after the assault.

the back of his head became

your shaggy brown curls transformed into

big, childlike blue eyes envisioning the world ahead, full of

crushed dreams and hopeless wishes as you got older.

blown-out candles were more insignificant with each year that went by, small milestones tallied on the wall marking another year without any major fuck-ups that could’ve changed

your life.

my life. i wanted to

take your dreams and turn them into mine while

our relationship went on, cutting the lifespan of each lightbulb representing

each and every single action i took,

against my will, to become

a part of you that slowly withered away.

petals fell to the floor, embracing death with its warm body and

open surface, absorbing each and every drop of the evil spirit that finally took over.

sobriety snuck up on me and forced my eyes open;

grimy subway tracks and rusty rails stared back at me, challenging me to

go further in the rabbit hole and

sink back into a short-lived fantasy that never came true.

making music

thenudebootysnatcher — Sun, 20 May 2012 02:47:00 -0400

i want to

grab your face and

kiss you. i want to

cup your cheeks as our tongues dance around another, happily accepting

the warm embrace coming from you. i want to

lay in bed with you,

on top of me, fighting the erection

building up from your slacks

my groin meets your groin and together

we grind and collide, perfectly swirling

in sync and

harmony—melodic tunes coming from either party in

a steady flow and

a steamy session between two lovers

baby, let’s duet and

create a solo tune loud enough for

the world to hear our happiness

avoidant

thenudebootysnatcher — Fri, 18 May 2012 03:19:41 -0400

you’re not going anywhere.

i’ve got you right where i want you, and now -

her coils wrapped themselves around my brain and turned it into stone, rendering it

useless while stealing my soul at the same

time. tick-tock,

tick

tock. the clock moved forward but

my body was frozen by medusa when i tried to

solve the problem and i became

prisoner and slave

the little voice in my head sitting on the throne

shut down my central nervous system. sleep deprivation and

stress

got the best of me,

tainting purity with its filth and ugliness before fleeing—

taking another piece of “me” with her, until she spits out

the remainders of my self-esteem.

i am locked in a cell where

a sense of balance in life is the only way to

be free and

be happy

fake it ‘til you make it, baby

selfless people can’t cheat and will always

finish

last

just remember to send a prayer when you

cross the finish line, but i expect you to

forget me in the end

unleashed

thenudebootysnatcher — Thu, 10 May 2012 04:55:00 -0400

the ghost of my teenage past knocked on my

door and came to say, “hello, today.” i had no choice but to

welcome her in my home and show her

the abode; a sanctuary built to shield me from

unwanted presences, like the one sat on my couch sipping tea and

tainting my beautiful china with its grimy, filth-stained lips.

why do you look so tense in your own home?

she pulled a cassette out of her bag and pushed it towards

my quivering hands with

a blank look on her face—the black pools surrounded by

chocolate brown rings in her eyes were

too deep for me to

jump into.

go to the park in three minutes. take this with you to the swings, close your eyes and

let yourself fly.

the click was inaudible as

she slipped through the exit, disappearing almost as soon as

she came. i grabbed my cassette player, some shoes and slammed the door on my way out.

i had no intention to

question and second-guess my actions at the moment.

with every pitter-patter from the rain around me, blood pumped

harder inside my chest, making an effort to

carry the weights of my collective body, mind and soul. i had to

shake off the nerves so i could

slither between the unlocked gates of what was technically

forbidden territory.

the swings were wet and my butt was damp after i sat down. with

both ears covered, the knuckles on each hand turning white from gripping

the metal for dear life, it was hard to dismiss the pent-up anxiety.

close your eyes and let yourself fly.

electronic sounds replaced

silence, and with every new beat,

i pushed. the swings creaked with

every back and forth motion, cranking the

operating wheels in my brain.

let yourself fly.

the purging process began, and

pitch black turned to bright lights;

clouds disintegrated and

made way for stars embracing me with open arms as

i found myself hundreds of feet in the air. the music was

still there, but the swing sets were

not. my knuckles sank into white fluff while

the wind coasted me in peace, no longer

bound by the chains of my past.

she set me free.

insecurities

thenudebootysnatcher — Sun, 22 Apr 2012 04:53:10 -0400

i’m a fragile russian doll; i hide

layers upon layers threatening to crack at the seams,

exposing little by little,

piece by piece, everything and

nothing you wanted to know about me. nothing

matters anymore, nowadays. it’s too easy to

take one glance, visualize the potential in your head and

press the “skip!” button, its automated voice vocalizing itself for you.

“NEXT!”

in line, one by one, standing so close to each other

the domino effect’s got nothing on us suitors waiting to

be with you, who want nothing more than to be

held by you

close to you, exhaled air from your lips touching

their faces, cold contacting the warmth from

within, deep down, fluttering eyelids and heartbeats

nervously pacing,

increasing in speed as we wait for

the judgment. smash or pass, it’s

your choice and ultimately

your loss.

first world problems

thenudebootysnatcher — Mon, 16 Apr 2012 02:24:00 -0400

i need: a

drink. a sense of decency. some

cheap shots, advice and

common courtesy. i need: a

hit. to

fall back on the horse thta is

the floor, before getting back up on

the mare called

reality. the sober continuum always shatters before i even

find myself at that point; the one of no

return, without a

refund given to you &

allowing yourself to make

wise decisions, with a bit of

rationality & logic, the

number one ingredient in

sanity.stability.sensitivity. all the things i

do not

have, own, or possess.

i am the biggest beneficiary in this situation, yet

i am the unhappiest. typical of a

stereotypical white, upper-middle-class monster of

society

a prisoner, i am

a drone, fitting in with

all the clones. “vroom-vroom!” they go,

riding around like motorized unicycles providing me with

what i need

what i want; superficial desires shallow as

celebrities in hollywood from a 1995 movie. they have

what they want,

what they need. won’t

somebody feed me?

excerpt

thenudebootysnatcher — Sun, 15 Apr 2012 16:37:24 -0400

you never expect people to turn out the way they do until

it’s too late.

a person will cover himself with layers to shield to protect intruders from finding him in his naked state; vulnerability isn’t tolerated around these parts of

the world, where you need

emotional and mental strength to

conquer the rabid beasts preying on

your flesh and soul.

late winter freeze

thenudebootysnatcher — Thu, 05 Apr 2012 01:22:00 -0400

the gusty winds outside make it impossible to

melt the thick layer of ice molded around

my heart, frozen cold, shades of

blue and red veins darkening in

the rotting corpse my soul inhabitates. the

black mood ring around my finger underlines to strangers

this new fact about me: i am a

cold-blooded

drugged up

psychologically disturbed and one FUCKED UP

human being, void of

emotions and empathy. one of the few things i can’t

buy at a vending machine to feed

the hungry heart devoid of

compassion and sympathy for others.

you left me to stand in the storming rain in a time of need, locking

the front door to your heart and making yourself inaccessible

to your own daughter when she needed you the most. and

although you paid your dues when god took you away, i refused

to stand by weeping family members and your so-called friends,

those who never even gave a shit about you to begin with. and now

you can add me to the list, mother; we may have bonded

over the shitty experiences in life you put me through, but at least i didn’t delude myself

into thinking our blood was thicker than water.

i vowed to myself to do everything it took not to

turn into my worst enemy, but you made it too easy and passed on

manic depression and instability. and now

my kids are going to pay the price for a crime they never committed; you’re

the real culprit but you got off scot-free and we’re

carrying the thousand-pound weights that fell off your shoulders when

you died. a part of me did, too, and

i carry the weapon of choice in my genes. let’s just hope

the girls have better luck in twenty years and don’t

turn out anything like yours truly.