Joy M.

Go cork your pistol   I mean… Dismantle my fucking soul.   Oh wait, you already have. With your inattention and cataclysmic soul.   Did you spot the first chink you left in my heart? Were your lies denied and feelings fried? I mean…   Did you snicker and roll your eyes? When the cracks were harder to hide?   And Leave me no choice   but to plot your demise?   I may be unskilled,   but I'm certainly not untried. You saw to that living a degenerate life.   There will come a time, when another will prick you back.   I mean… I hope it kicks your ass.                                                                              Joy4no1  

Hey guys, Working on my new book Bringing The Fight. I started over in the first person to challenge myself and it's coming along like a raw egg splattered on the sidewalk in the middle of the summer. I have plans to publish this puppy and the playlist helps. Hope everyone has a fuktastic week! Thanks for reading my words!  Joy4no1 

 Unmannerly He dismisses me like an errant phone call, middle finger in the air. Oh dear. I walk out as if he's an overcooked steak, too tough but still trailing blood. Oh shit. Joy4no1  

On repeat... how much writing can I do?

* Jaxxen * The second I saw her, it felt like my heart died and came to life all at once. Like I'd found the other half of my soul and my heart couldn't take the strain. It took all my control to continue to sit still at the counter of the bar at Old Toms Tavern with Nason talking my ear off. I watch her clean up after the local yokels, tracking every movement like prey. "She got here last week," Nason told me when he noticed who had my real attention, "Tom's letting her live upstairs." I take a long pull of my beer, nodding. The girl clearly tried to look frumpy, wearing a god awful baggy green sweater that covered her ass with equal loose fitted jeans. She long strawberry blonde hair is pulled up haphazardly. Her furtive eyes and careful movement sing to my darkness, whispering she's in trouble and I'm the one she needs. I wish the bar wasn't so damn dark. I can't tell the color of her eyes as she worked across th

Beneficial   Reassuring nothing is out of place, I open the door to see his glowering face. It's not my fault he's such a bad boy, I told him numerous times not to bleed on my pristine floors. Rules are posted to the crumbling wall for a reason, it's only because of his rebellion I must enforce such torture.  "Such a sweet face that one day I will taste," I whisper  before his eyes roll back into an unnaturally green head. There's nothing I can do to change his fate once these aberrations set their sight on someone as true and cunning as this man I cut into. They remind me it's beneficial to curb their appetite less I want to simmer on the  piping hot stove along with the poor survivors of  The Last Days. Joy4no1   

Debility   I strip myself down in the cover of darkness. Baring my soul to no one but myself is a surly ritual. Starting with the clear bottle in my hand it opens indulgent wounds. Then there's the cancer stick that fills my lungs with dirty tracks. This indifferent inky starless place I sink into croons boo-fucking-hoo. It's better to fall alone  then deliver others where my soul fights against seething animosity.  At least  that's what I tell myself  when I crash to my knees whimpering like a weak little bitch. Joy4no1

When I wrote this I thought, what a great short story this would make. I have a lot of writing projects going on but this will be written eventually!  Joy M.

Similarities  A boy asks his dad to explain the differences between irritation, aggravation, and frustration. Dad picks up the phone and dials a number at random. When the phone is answered he asks, "Can I speak to Alf, please?" "There's no one named Alf here," The person hangs up. "That's irritation," says dad. He picks up the phone again, dials the same number and asks for Alf a second time. "No, there's no one named Alf here. You have the wrong number. If you call again I will call the police." End of conversation. "That's aggravation." "Then what's frustration?" asks his son. The father picks up the phone and dials a third time, "Hello, this is Alf. Have I received any phone calls?" There was a young lady named Claire who possessed a magnificent pair; Or that's what I thought  Til I saw one get caught On a thorn, and begin to lose air. Goldilocks has a lots of guy

Cantillate   As far back as I can remember there is a melody I try to sing. I hum and tap out the frustrating tones but it's always just out of my mind's eye like a bird's chirp somewhere in the forest  unseen and out of reach. Sometimes late at night, I'll close my eyes tight and on the cusp of sleep  it'll come like a soft falsetto to only find when I wake my song remiss. No tears from these tired eyes. My song will belt out when I least expect and then I'll sing for all to see there is certain attuned magic when liberation proceeds willful melodies.   Joy4no1   

A man walks into a pharmacy, buys one condom, then walks out of the store laughing hysterically. The pharmacist thinks this is weird, but, hey, there's no law preventing weird people from buying condoms. Maybe it's a good thing. The next day, the man comes back to the store, purchases another condom, and once again he leaves the store laughing wildly. This piques the interest of the pharmacist. What's so funny about buying a rubber, anyway? So he tells his clerk, "If this guy ever comes back, I want you to follow him to see where he goes." Sure enough, the next day the laughing customer is back. He buys the condom, starts cracking up, then leaves. The pharmacist tells his clerk to go follow the guy. About an hour later, the clerk comes back to the store. "Did you follow him? Where did he go?" asks the pharmacist. The clerk replies, "Your house." 

Indirection    There was a sign in the middle of the road. Not just any sign because it spoke in slow tones like we're all ignorant and need flashcards to understand; there are only four corners we can go. Well shit, I thought, watching others separate left and right. Forward and backward I blink and think,  maybe I need those damn instructions after all. When I felt like curling into a ball, your left hand entwined mine while the right flipped off the sign. I've got you, your smile matched mine as we claimed our own fucked up destiny meandering and exclaiming they'll never catch me.  Joy4no1

  Drunk Peppiness is underrated. I smile and glow while you bitch and moan. One of us has to feel the high while another the low. This is not to say it's not interchangeable but today I'll tip-toe and keep lips sealed watching out for verbal bombs you'll inevitably scream my way  once the liquor bottle becomes half empty  but I still love ya on this fifth of May baby. Joy4no1