The habits of Whores

I don’t know the last time we kissed,

But I can still feel his lips on my skin. 

I’ve been waiting for the guilt to set in,

But I just feel like saying goodbye 

Everytime I see your eyes. 



Primary Care Physician:

Follow up for migraines,

Heart rate is




Follow up:


“Panic attack?”


“You’re having a panic attack.” 

“I know what when my body feels the need to run and right now it doesn’t even think it can, this is not that.

“I guess we will put in another referral”





“Are you nervous?”


“I’ll prescribe something to lower it, that should have been your PCP’s first move….maybe it will help with the headaches” 

Beta Blockers


Antiseizure/Migraine Medication 







“We need to get this Anxiety under control. It’s probably just stress from the Navy.”

When did this become we, she’s finally been listening to me. Since when has neuorology been more concerned than cardiology with someone’s heart? Anxiety barely remembers her own name these days. Let’s get to the root of the problem and listen to the patient. 

But we wonder why Vets are living on the streets. 
Not my usually format or topics, but I’ve been in and out of appointments lately and it’s been adding stress back into my life that has been for the most part feeling under control lately. I need to vent. I know a lot of people get frustrated with military medical, and I have accepted that my heart rate my just be higher as I really do not think it’s related to anxiety as in all this situations my anxiety was not showing her face. 


For as long as I can remember my body

has been my enemy. 

It likes to entertain house guests. 

It wears the banner of Safe Haven,

so it can take strays in.  

It made it clear long ago,

if I can maintain residency 

So can Anxiety. 

But Anxiety gets lonely.

So they took in Depression.

And when I try to make them see

that leaves little room for me,

they play a game called codependency.

So I guess I fit. 

But there is no room to grow. 

And there is no room for him. 


 My stomach is at full capacity

from all the words I swallow. 

He says I’m awfully hollow,

for someone bursting at the seams. 

He only believes what can see,

and I even look empty to me. 

First Love

I remember how I used to say

your name was written in Braille,

in the the goosebumps along my skin,

and my whole body was calling you in. 

And the next words out of my mouth

we’re always along the lines of;

You’re the first person I’ve ever loved..

And maybe a piece of me believed that. 

But I remember how I wondered,

if your fingers could read the names
that came before yours..

Or if they were erased

The same way I hoped you would be,

the second you stopped touching me. 


I have a nervous tick

Where my forefinger and my thumb

Try to attach to my bottom lip

In the middle of every conversation. 

Like my hand has a duty

To my mouth. 

Maybe it will shut it

Before the bad things come out. 

But I still sigh when people speak to me. 

And say it’s them that are exhausting.