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Archive for the ‘Stella Marie’ Category

Roslin is


blissfully


oblivious

to Stella being completely


pissed


off.

It’s been fun!

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Day two of kitty in the bathroom vs. Stella Marie was stressful. Holy fucking shit, my cat is pissed. She’s been hissing and growling and attacking me. We’ve come to a peaceful agreement, I won’t touch her and she won’t hiss at me. I’m hoping this only lasts a little longer and I have my sweetheart back. Roslin remains clueless and cute.

I went to a fun place today called Cowtown. It’s basically a flea market. It’s a place where white trash and ghetto threw up and smeared itself together. Like the Jerry Springer mall. It’s fucking awesome.

We get there and all I want is some veggies. Many of the local farmers have stands there selling their delicious goodies. I got Jersey tomatoes and some fresh peaches, one of which I devoured immediately and it was gorgeous.

I wanted to go into the porn stall, 3 movies for $10…yippee. I’m not a huge porn fan, I just like to see what’s out there and maybe find something hot. But, all of the movies looked like white trash and ghetto threw up and smeared itself together. Um, no.

In addition to selling all assorted types of shit, they also sell lingerie at this place. It’s really trashy, but again…awesome. So, I was walking by one of the little stalls selling especially trashy lingerie (I almost bought the most obnoxious cone bra there, but alas they didn’t have my size…damn my huge boobs) and I saw the greatest sign ever written.

There on the mannequin written in black marker on a fluorescent yellow sign was, “We carry men’s thongs!”

Thank god someone does.

I’m so happy that they felt the need to reassure potential customers about this. The mannequin was wearing a red tarty looking outfit, nipple-less and crotchless and riddled with lace and rhinestones. I wonder if they had a matching pair to this red outfit. I’d be over the moon about that.

I would have taken a picture, but I left my cell phone at my mother’s house because I’m an idiot and forgetful and a mess.

In other news, I want to say thank you to the guy who emailed me video of his girlfriend giving him head with a request for me to critique her technique because, when you come right down to it, I just don’t get irritated enough.

Eh, really? Does she even know you sent a private video of her performing on you? She had better know. So, if you’re the guy who sent it and you’re reading this…go tell her. I’ll wait.

Toe tapping.

Checking nails.

Toe tapping.

Does she know? Good. Now, I’ll give you my critique.

MAYBE SHE’D GIVE YOU A BETTER BLOWJOB IF YOU TOOK YOUR FUCKING HAND OUT OF HER HAIR AND STOPPED FORCING YOUR COCK DOWN HER THROAT LIKE A JACKHAMMER.

Basically, you were just masturbating with her face. If you did that to me, I’d have unsheathed my teeth or pinched your balls. Did you just cringe? Good, cause I cringed watching that video.

Dude, let her pleasure you or get blowup doll or the Real Doll. I hate guys like you.

That’s all my dears. I’m going to bed. Yup. Home and bed to early on a Saturday night. I rock.

Oh, and because I’m such a blog whore…I created some T-shirts, mugs, aprons, and other shit that advertise my blogs. Take a look at my sidebar, you can’t miss it. I’m kind of ashamed of myself, but not really. You know you want to wear me.

Kisses.

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I brought my new kitten home this afternoon. Stella is not happy, hissing and growling and just plain pissed. They haven’t met face to face yet. Roslin is in the bathroom with her new bed, her liter, food, and toys. She’s still drinking kitten milk, but is also eating food. She’s so freakin small, I’m not sure when I’ll be able to let her roam around freely. And I’m worried about her and Stella. I’ve never introduced a kitten into the mix before and Stella is a very shy cat. I’m the only person Stella likes, she hides when other people come over. I’m hoping she’ll take to the kitten quickly. I just got her to calm down after listening to her growl for over 2 hours. Oy!

Here are two pictures of the new peanut.


Here is Roslin on my sister’s lap.


Here is my sister, Shel, holding the peanut.

Have a great weekend!!!!

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Stella Marie

I’ve had my little doll baby Stella Marie one year today. In celebration of this, I’ve decided to tell you Stella’s tale. I can’t imagine my life without my sweet kitty.

When my beloved cat, Dutch, died in December 2005 I was really sad. I mean really really sad. His decline was sudden and he had been with me my whole adult life. Animals become part of your family and Dutch was my boy. I wasn’t ready for another pet. I was still sad and everyone was trying to get me to replace Dutch with another pet. I didn’t want to do this. Until I saw this picture on Petfinder….

I knew that she was my kitty. Look at how sad she looks. She needed me. So, I called the rescue organization that was holding her and filled out the application they had online. The woman was very happy that I was interested in “Hootie” and we arranged for me to see her once my references and everything checked out. She called me back the next day to tell me that I was approved and I could visit “Hootie” that night.

I got to the house and a very sweet older woman named Barb greeted me. She said she had to explain a few things about “Hootie” before I saw her. The little kitten was found at about 10 weeks old, lying in the middle of a field in the freezing cold by the woman’s neighbor. The neighbor immediately took the kitten to Barb who then took it to the vet to see if it could be saved. The kitten was severely starved and dehydrated. She had a very bad case of worms. She was losing her hair. She was matted all over. She was a mess.

Barb had “Hootie” for 2 weeks before she felt comfortable enough to put the kitten up for adoption. She told me not to be alarmed by how skinny she was. Or the state of her fur. They had tried to get all of the matting out but some knots were still there. She also warned me that the kitten was a bit anti-social and would probably hiss at me. She then led me to a door and wished me good luck.

I walked into a bathroom and didn’t see the kitty at first. She was hiding behind the toilet. She was teeny tiny and hissing. It was kind of funny. I sat down on the floor and cooed at her. After about 10 minutes of my sitting there, she finally walked out and rubbed up against me. I pet her and couldn’t believe how fragile she felt. All skin and bones. I noticed the fur on her back was very thin and there were bald spots. I sat there petting her and talking to her for quite a while. And then she did something that made me know that she was mine forever.

Cats are interesting creatures. They have a strange way of expressing their affection. One of the ways they do this is by staring at what they love, and slowly closing and opening their eyes. Well, she did this to me a few times and then she opened her mouth for a silent meow. She looked content. She was purring really loud.

After a few minutes more, I got up and called the woman inside. I had “Hootie” in my arms at that point. Barb was shocked, as no one had been successful in picking the kitty up before this. I told her that I was in love and that I would definitely take her, Oh and I also told her I was changing her name to Stella Marie. We agreed that I would pick her up in one week, Barb wanted to take her back to the vet and to help her socialize a bit more.

I found out later that they named her “Hootie” because she sort of looked like an owl. I thought that was stupid. She needed a girl name. I got the name Stella Marie from the song “O Stella” by one of my favorite musicians PJ Harvey.

One week later I picked her up and brought her to her new home. She was so scared. She hid behind the chair all night and then got stuck behind the radiator that morning. It took about a week for her to feel completely comfortable, but when she did we fit together like peanut butter and jelly.

After about a month, I started seeing huge changed in Stella. Her fur, which was once thin and rough, was shiny and silky. Her tail, which was thin and almost hairless, was huge and fluffy. She sprouted this long fur on the bottom of her paws. I thought she was the weirdest looking cat I’d ever seen, but beautiful at the same time.

This summer, the old lady next door had houseguests and they brought their two Maine Coon cats with them. As soon as I saw these cats, I knew that Stella was Maine Coon. Their owner was a Maine Coon expert and breeder and he came up to my apartment to see Stella. He confirmed that if she wasn’t purebred, he didn’t know what. He said that she had every point they look for and her demeanor and traits are all classic Maine Coon. So, my little street kitty was pedigree. I asked him who would leave a purebred kitten out in the cold. He said there are nuts everywhere. The vet further confirmed that Stella was Maine Coon and even though I have no papers for her, she’s my little princess.

Here are some pictures of my girl. She the funniest cat I’ve ever seen. She plays fetch. She can pick things up with her paws. She’s super smart. She’s awesome. She follows me aound all day, everyday. She sleeps curled up next to me. She chirps at the birds outside and greets me at the door every time I come home. I love my kitty and I’m so grateful that the she is in my world.

Enjoy.


Stella at 3 months.

Stella all grown up.












Thank you all for reading Stella’s story.

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HAAAAAAAAAAA! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAAAA! HAHAHA!

Who’s a silly nilly?

Me. I’m in a goofy mood. I felt like I hadn’t laughed in ages. And then the dam broke…I got the giggles.

First off, here are some pictures of my birthday prizes.


My mom and stepdad got me the Tori Amos box set I’ve been wanting.


Something I’ve been wanting to read.


This has many recipes for my foxy mixer. I’ll be a baking fool.


The now infamous “I lost one” earrings.


A book I’ve been wanting to read for a long time.


Earrings from my gay boyfriend, Tim.

I want to thank those of you who sent me gifts. You have no idea how much I appreciate these treasures. You all are too generous. To the people who sent me cards, thank you so much. They meant so much. I love you all.

Now onto other things…..

I’m kind of pissed off at my sister. Let me rephrase that, I’m livid with my sister. Her retarded doctor told her that she could go home on Friday for a week if she promised to do nothing but lay in bed. Instead of being smart and opting to stay in the hospital, she’s going home. To her asshole annoying demanding husband, her 7 year old stepson, her 80 pound dog…..I swear she always has the need to be a hero. I don’t believe that she will stay in bed. She has no sense. She won’t listen to my mother. My sister is behaving like an asshole.

I had the following conversation with the little girl, Ashley, I read to every Wednesday:

Ashley: “What’s wrong with your eyes?”
Me: “I don’t know. What’s wrong with them?”
Ashley: “They’re yellow.”
Me: “Oh, well that’s my eye color. It’s called hazel and sometimes my eyes are green and sometimes my eyes are gold.”
Ashley: “They look like evil eyes. The devil has those eyes.”
Me: “Well, I’m not the devil or evil.”
Ashley: “Are you sure? They are really yellow.”
Me: “Do you like me, Ashley?”
Ashley: “Yes, you’re nice.”
Me: “Would an evil person be nice?”
Ashley: “No, I don’t think so.”
Me: “Shall we read now?”

First time in my life someone has said my eyes looked evil. I know I have weird colored eyes. I know that I wear dark eye makeup that sets the color off. I know that depending on my mood they can look very light, almost clear….so I suppose a 7 year old my think they look evil.

What do you all think? Evil?

My eye looks red and irritated in that picture. I suppose an extreme closeup with a bad camera can do that to a gorgeous eye like mine.

In others news, I have to bite it and join a gym. I like exercising outdoors and since the weather has turned colder and it’s still getting dark early…..I’m finding it difficult to go outside. And I’ve tried to do some of the workouts on Fit TV, but I hate them. So, I have to get to the gym. Because I’m not getting younger and I need to save it before it goes to shit. I like to eat too much to diet.

Want to hear a story from the last time I was at the gym? Okay, I’ll tell you. I was running on the treadmill and there was a guy running next me. He had those short runner’s shorts on. Anyhow, I’m jogging along when I hear him fart. LOUD. And then he yells, “Oh no” and hurries off of the treadmill towards the men’s locker rooms leaving a trail of watery poo behind him. I swear on all that I love that this is the truth. I halted the treadmill and after getting over my disgust, the giggles started and well….didn’t stop. I had to sit down on the treadmill because my stomach hurt. The woman who worked the desk made the guy clean up his own shit, which made me laugh even harder. I, then, had to run to the bathroom because I was laughing so hard I almost peed myself. Luckily, I made it.

Maybe the gym will be fun. Lots of potential stories and hijinks.

What else can I talk about? Let’s stay with the poo theme, if there is one, and talk about how I chased Stella Marie around my apartment the other night with a pair of scissors and a baby wipe because she had a big turd hanging from her tail. She wouldn’t stay still and kept fighting me when I tried to cut it out. I ended up pinning her down and holding the end of the poo with the baby wipe and, with ninja speed, cut the poo out. It wasn’t easy and I got some poo on my hands, but I got the poo off of her tail. Yay me!

More? You want more? Oh, I’ll give you more. Ready. Here I go.

Sike.

I’ve got nothing.

Oh wait. Hang on.

I forgot to tell you all something. I saw the Pilot out on a date. Yeah. That wasn’t supposed to hurt. Aren’t emotions weird? I don’t want him, but I didn’t want to see him with someone else. Especially when I don’t have anybody. It made me sad and pissy.

I need to get laid, ya think?

Okay, I’m really finished now. See y’all later.

THURSDAY MORNING UPDATE: Guess what? I’ve having a rough morning. My panties keep falling down. I just now had to stick my hand down my pants and pull them up. I don’t recall have this kind of problem with these panties before, but this is annoying. Oh, do you want to know what my outfit is today? Okay. I’m wearing an ill-fitting heavy black sweater with two shirts under it, baggy pants, and a pair of jeweled slippers that I keep under my desk. Wanna see the slippers? Here they are.


Are they in style? No. Are they pretty? Nope. Do they match my outfit? Not a chance. Do I give a shit? No way. They’re comfortable.

Alright, that’s enough from me. Back to work I go. Fuck yeah!

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Thanks for the well wishes. The migraine is extinguished.

Ready for my holiday story? It’s a fun one. But before that, here are some pictures of my sister and my nephew, Rylee.


Rylee at karate.


My sister, Rylee, and Max the dog.


My sister’s belly.

I last spoke with you all at length on Saturday. I ended up doing a hip-hop aerobic class on Fit TV and then showered and started on the drinking. Around 11 PM, I answer my ringing phone and it’s my sister. She’s hysterically crying. Her husband, I’ve told you all he’s a bit of a bastard in this post, freaked out an hour after I left and started screaming at her and throwing her things away. Remember, Friday night she was bleeding and I took her to hospital where she was told to relax and rest. She tells me that as he’s throwing everything out he’s telling her that she’s lazy and doesn’t know how to clean (she’s not supposed to be cleaning). And then she tells me he said the following statement, which makes me mental. Ready for it? Sit down first. Okay, here it is. He told her that if something happens to the baby he’s going to sue her. That he doesn’t give a shit if she dies, but that baby better come out healthy.

**crickets**

When I regain my composure, I tell her I’m on my way to get her and to hurt him permanently. She tells me that she’s fine, she’s locked herself in her bedroom. She then tells me that my dad had called whilst they were in the middle of the argument and that the bastard told my dad that he (the bastard) was being a dick and asked my dad what he was going to do about it. Un-fucking-believable. I tell my sister that I must go for a minute and that I’ll call her back.

I call my dad because I figure he’s on his way to her house ready to beat the every-loving shit out of the bastard. To my surprise though, he’s watching a movie on the couch. What? So, I ask him quite meanly why in the name of all that’s holy he isn’t in his truck on his way to save my sister. He says that he spoke with the bastard and that he had a little episode. You girls worry too much, is what he said to me. I could have kicked him in his balls.

I call my sister back and the bastard answers the phone. I tell him I want to speak with my sister and he starts giving me a bunch of shit. He says that I need to calm down because he was just letting go of some steam. I say the following, “Motherfucker, I don’t care what you were just doing. I told you to put my sister on the phone and if you don’t I’m calling the Lancaster police department and they can see what the fuck is going on up there, how’s that?” I hear the word bitch before the phone is picked up by my sister. We talked a bit and when I felt calmer I hung up. I’m still worried for her, but I know that she’s going to have company all week. My mother and stepdad when up today to see her and I believe my mom is going to tear the bastard a new asshole.

Sunday (Christmas Eve) morning, I got up early to make gravy for the lasagna and to make two batches of spinach artichoke dip. After the cooking, I got myself ready and went to my dad’s house to celebrate the holiday. As I was unloading all of the presents out of my car, I got injured. It was really windy and the car door swung closed and hit me hard in my arm causing a real nice bruise. See the picture below.


Nice, huh?

I had a great night. I got totally surprised by my dad and his girlfriend, as they got me a professional grade standing mixer. I love kitchen gadgets and have been asking for this mixer for about 6 years knowing that no one would buy it for me because it’s very expensive. I got all of the attachments; the meat grinder, the pasta maker, and the ice cream maker. I actually cried. It was just so nice. I never get gifts like that. I also got some books and a pretty lamp for my bedroom. The day was great, except I wished my sister could have been there.

My little sisters (the twins) look great. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned how they fought and beat a drug problem, but they have. I’m so proud of them. They’ve been through a lot. They are themselves again and look amazing. They were fun to be around and I hope that they stay healthy.


My new mixer.

I talked to my sister after I got home from my dad’s and she said that the bastard’s mother got there and got a hold of the bastard and let him know that he needs to learn how to treat his wife. I felt better knowing she wasn’t there alone with him.

Christmas morning, I got myself up to visit my ex sister-in-law (from now on I will call her my soul sister or SS) and my niece and nephew. You see, I really couldn’t care less about my step-brother (her ex-husband) as he’s a first class motherfucker. Trust me on this. I’ve spoken of some of his antics before. Anyhow, I pull up to her house and I see my brother’s truck in the driveway. I knew he was going to be there when the kids got up, but I didn’t expect him to still be there. I called my mom to see if they were on their way and she informs me that she and my stepdad are circling the block until my brother leaves. Apparently, he called my stepdad the night before and cussed him out about going over to SS’s house and told him to go fuck himself. He also said some horrible things about my mother. My brother feels that because he’s divorced from SS that we shouldn’t consider her family anymore. She’s been in our lives over 15 years and he cheated on her, mentally and physically abused her, and lied to everyone in his family. Oh, and did I mention she’s one of the best people I’ve ever met in my life. She’s all goodness.

So, I tell my mom I don’t care if my brother gets pissed that I’m there (but really, he doesn’t care about me at all so why would he care about if I was there) and I hang up and go up to the door. He’s coming out as I’m walking up and I say in my ‘Debbie is a bitch voice’ MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! and he doesn’t even look at me. Good, I think.

I go in and have an absolutely wonderful time with the two stinkies (aka Morgan and Connor, my niece and nephew). They are just lovely. Morgan got a microphone stand and thought she was a star, which she is. At some point, she put every scarf she and her mother had on her microphone stand and we started calling her Steven Tyler. Hilarious. I stayed for a few hours and then had to leave to assemble my lasagna.

I got to my mom’s and my stepsister’s were already there. They were pleasant enough. My one stepsister still looks like she’s 50 years old (she’s 33) and anorexic, but I did see her eat something so that’s good. My stepbrother didn’t show up with the kids. He didn’t call. Nothing. The gifts just sat under the tree and my mom and stepdad kept looking at them. You could see how hurt they were. My stepdad said he may forgive my stepbrother for doing this, but he would never forget this day. I was sad for them. I want to remove my brother’s balls from his body with my bare hands. I think I could do it.

Anyhow, bad news and drama aside I had a lovely time. I got a new microwave, which I really needed. I also got a beautiful red purse, a pair of foxy fuckme high-heel knee-high boots, and lots of clothes. I also got lots of books, which I really wanted. Of course, even though I told everyone in my family to go by my wishlist on Amazon (to the right–hee hee) nobody did got me anything from there. Well, except two friends from the blog world and I thank you with all of my heart for those.

Yesterday, I had the day off from work and I rearranged my kitchen. I have so much counter space now because my new microwave is a lot smaller than my old one and it looks so clean and organized. I LOVE that. I’m such a neat freak. I then went to Target to spend my gift certificates.


See how big my old microwave was?

Well, that’s all I have right now. This post is very long and I hope you haven’t fallen asleep reading it. I have some cool ideas for the new year and I have some special posts coming up the next couple of days, so please stick with me.


Stella, because she’s a pretty kitty.

Okay, I have one request before I leave. If you can be so kind, please offer me some topics to cover for Coquettishly. If you want to be anonymous, please email me. You don’t have to ask a question or anything like that, just let me know what topic would make a good post. I really appreciate it.

Have a nice night.

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I made cookies all day. All fucking day. I went over to my mom’s and helped her make a gazillion cookies for the holidays. My hair smells like chocolate chip cookies, which isn’t a bad thing at all.

Yesterday, I could hardly move. My hangover was brutal, even though I drank about ten gallons of water. I just can’t hang anymore.

I need help. Can someone please tell me how to back up my archives on this here blog? I know I’m gonna fuck it up without some guidance and I have no idea what the instructions on Blogger are talking about. I’m coming up to 300 posts and I don’t want to lose anything. So, if there is anyone out there who loves me enough to help I’d really appreciate.

Why do I watch Extreme Home Makeover? I cry the whole entire show. They are just so nice. Tonight’s show hit a little close to home. They’re redoing a woman police officer’s house. She was shot on duty and is now paralyzed. My dad was a beat cop in one of the most dangerous cities in the country, Camden, NJ. He’s been in countless shootouts. He still has the newspaper clippings. I just remember that when he was a beat cop worrying about him because I was afraid that something awful would happen to him.

I’m not going to support this new Rocky movie. Being from a suburb of Philly, it is in my genetic makeup that I love the Rocky movies and I do. Rocky I and II, that is. The fourth one is okay, but just corny. Anyhow, Sylvester Stallone is old and has no business making another Rocky movie. Rocky needs to rest and retire with some dignity. Let us remember the good moments, like the infamous run from the Italian Market all the way to the Art Museum and up those famous steps, raising his arms in victory. No one is immune to that and we all have ran up those steps, Rocky style, and raised our arms the same way. I fear this movie is going to ruin this.

I just saw the most amazing commercial about the world tapping into the most important natural resource it has…..women! I totally agree. Go to www.care.org and find out how you can help. I think this is wonderful. We need to start protecting and empowering our sisters.

Um, someone got to my blog by searching for the following: pictures of horse vulva winking. I’m not sure why someone would be searching that and I’m okay with not knowing. Fucking weirdos.

Okay, that’s enough from me today. I’ve updated all of the blogs and I’m ready to chill out. Here’s a cute picture of Stella Marie. For some reason, she loves these pink heels.

Kisses.

Oh, and go over and say Happy Birthday to Dark Damian. He’s the shit.

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I had a pretty boring weekend. Went to my mother’s house to see my pregger sister. She’s starting to show and she looks adorable. We gave her all of the clothes we bought for her last Tuesday and she loved them. I can’t wait to see her in some of the outfits.

I had a coffee date this morning. We’ll call the guy P. I met him last week and even though I did say to you all that I was currently dating myself, I figured that it wouldn’t hurt to date around and see what’s out there. I haven’t really been “in action” in over a year and it’s time. You all haven’t experienced ‘Dating Debbie’ yet, but you’ve read some of my stories. Well, I’m ready to go now.

So, let me focus. I met P at a local diner and I had a good time. It was really low-key kind of a date. He said he had a good time too. I’m not sure what’s going to happen or if we’ll go on another date, but I’ll keep you all posted.

Had a scene with Stella Marie this evening. The downstairs neighbors cat was up at my door (he always comes up) and this was the first time my girl has seen him. I heard some low meowing that I’ve never heard before. I went out to the porch to calm Stella down and right when she heard my voice, she went for the other cat. Luckily, there’s a screen door there. But shit, I had no idea my little kitty had it in her. I tried to grab her, but she freaked out and now I have puncture wounds and scratches all over my right hand. I can’t be mad at her though. She was really scared and protecting her house. I did get her to relax and she’s been next to ever since the incident. Poor little baby.

I really don’t have much else to write tonight. I’ll leave you all with two more poems that I wrote years ago.

We are all flowers waiting to be picked…
who’s pissing on us, who’s stepping on us,
who’s picking us now?
Growing up to be beautiful treasures
sprouting with springtime joy.
Come across the field, pick me,
I’m the most perfect one.
Looking out at the other girls
a tear from my petal falls.
A bunch of lilies were trampled upon,
their life forced into the dirt.
We are all flowers waiting to be picked…
who’s pissing on us, who’s stepping on us,
who’s picking us now?
In the May drought I smiled to the sun,
but my smile got caught in the wind.
He wants another.
I am a flower waiting to be picked…
who’s pissing on me, who’s stepping on me,
who’s picking me now?
Please pick me before my spinster leaves wither away
they are falling down all over the river
drowning in the water he pours on me.
We are all flowers waiting to be picked…

and

Tears roll down my face.
The things you find,
the things you stumble upon
in the roses.
Behind the trailers
he was there.
There’s blood everywhere.
The thorns were found.
The things you stumble upon.
Running along the honeysuckle path
and picket fences.
Smells of sunshine.
Smells like summertime.
Tripping over the wind
there’s a smile on a dandelion.
There’s a child on a swing.
Little boys with little trucks
running over the dollies.
The little girls with their water pistols
trying to solve a crime.
Bandaides on boo-boo’s.
The things you stumble upon.
The things you fall on.
He was there
and there’s blood on my dress,
in the roses.
In the sun
lawnmowers are mowing
along with the birds chirping.
The bees are making themselves a home.
Little Molly has fallen down.
The things you stumble upon
in the roses.

Thanks for reading. I know these poems aren’t that great, but it’s fun to share them with you all.

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