Luis Zul

Can I meet you tomorrow? I need a hug. There are things  that I need to shake off. I danced and sang it off for now so it's not extremely urgent, I think. I was there, girl. In front of the fangs of the abyss, licking the last crumbs of my fading bliss. I tugged desperately the length of my cord, barely escaping the bite of the scythe. I logged on Grindr and felt immediately gross. I knew it was gonna be that way, so why did I bother to log in? I wanted someone to cut with their scissors the vines from my loved one -- no longer one. My hands are too sore and cramped from trimming trimming trimming every week the chains that come back stronger tying me to a desk I no longer believe in. What am I to do instead when cries for help are shots in the dark, when the hand in everyone's clock is ajar, when the floor is covered by unfolded laundry and stacks of dishes. There's a palette in my night table waiting for my hand. It begs me to paint landscapes with memories f

What a fool. This pansy talks in a steady, passive voice. Instead of saying he wants to be held, if he just carried through, he would increase his chances of doing something great. He would make a mark out of his feeble, fickle existence. What a fool. What a fad. This man thinks the Great Assby will be the leader of the retribution from the disparity of many ages past. What he forgets is that anyone seldom does anything for free, if anyone would, peace would reign anywhere, unhinged. What a fool. What a fad. What an embarrassment to our class. Wake up. He doesn't give a shit about you. He won't pay his dues. You'll just be there moping on the floor waiting, like an invasive bug, one moment there, and the next one stomped with your insides sprawled all over. You've been told a hundred million times of what a pathetic act it is to be soft and kind, to open up after being run over by someone that is now somehow fucking someone  somewhere. Somehow the pain of he

I need a strong bond, like gluten, to pick me up from the hot spicy sour soup that I've cooked during the summer. My body says help. My insides scream and yell. They politely decline all asks and invites I've committed to. The body, once gleeful, realizes that energy gets transformed to piercing medicine for its joints, hardening like a web, restricting all movement. The lake now, so distant and serene, makes great contrast with the boiling furnace of my temples and thighs. I've ignored you for way too long. I've tried dancing I've tried climbing, knowing nothing replaces the cooling breeze by Morpheus's shores and reefs. I've made space for me and you to heal. The rest is up to you.

I gained weight recently but at least my ass got thicker. After all, you can't offer over the counter service if the backdoor isn't up to standards. My nutritionist tells me I get more weight when I lift more, and hell if that hasn't been the case, the invisible dumbbells pressing harder against my hips. I may be no heavy weight lighter but I lift my spirits every day nurture every family member and friend: All a pretty big briefcase to carry.