Alphabet Soup Minuscule

The Laundry Maid

Among the Wanted

When the new isn’t new anymore, 
And our desire for the things we so desperately craved before becomes like an illness of uncertainty.

An illness in our minds, because we think too much, and not enough.
Because we act enough, or maybe too little.
Do we still crave what was lost?
Or throw some sand on it to cover up the evidence?

Will you cover him lightly?
 Or will you cover him deep and hard,
So that he will never come up again.
Will you bury him to show him you know your worth and then,
Silence him, by ending his lies and delusions and false promises.

But, send him the song you made love too a month later. Only to ignore his response.  Because you know your worth at the table.
Because you know you are among the wanted.

You run with the horses, and scream with the survivors.
While finding new that is worth more,
That costs less.


I am untitled,  and absolute.  

A fascinating fixation that,
You will never have.
Though your thoughts are thick of me now,
Like burnt gravy.
You can almost taste me, smell me,
Breathe me.

I am not branded of you.
As my need is perpetual and,
This heart is tenacious warm,
And bleeding venetian red.
I am exclusive only to myself,
Without equal,
As my parallel hasn’t been found yet.

Drift Together, Apart. 

Co-written with the wonderful Ward Clever. You can find him here:

Blurry, moving too fast to follow
Especially with my eyes closed half the time
My glass is half full most of the time
Until it runs out.

And it always does.
Still, I’m left wanting one more drop
Even though you know it’s not good for me.
That you’re not good for me.

It was good while it lasted
At least that’s what I told myself
While I was waiting for you to notice
What you were missing,

You didn’t notice me at all.
Or, maybe you did.
And maybe you will still.
When the diamond burns a hole in your pocket,
Who will you give it to?

Will it be a private affair
So quiet that it’s hidden from everyone?
Even yourself?
If you won’t admit I meant anything
At least admit you already left in your mind.

You left for a warmth I couldn’t give you,
Because I was in another place.
And you, You were in yours.
My admissions, lay deep beneath your excuses,
Your justifications for this neglect you have left on my

One more night I drink alone
You’re too interested in the past to fill my glass
Too caught up in yourself to notice my emptiness
Too late with your false apologies

Apologies, when we should instead be kissing.
When we should be laughing and,
Whispering our fears and dreams to one another before we
Instead, we wake up alone, and drift together apart.

What should happen, doesn’t always happen
Wondering what happened is a constant state
Sorrow, a companion to toast
Because it’s always there for you,

Like I was always there,
Like a cobweb in a corner.
Waiting for another brush off.
Instead, I gather.

I will ride the wind
Smiling gossamer wings
My essence floating onward

Away from you,
Closer to me.

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life without a compass

distracted writer . heedless traveller . midnight merrybaker .

MB Blissett

The passion and truth of women's hearts.


a visual journey

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