Vision issues

Pattimouse encounters gross incompetence in medical billing and insurance coverage.


So thanks to a really screwed up business and their practices… It is unlikely that I will be getting my glasses this year. I went in march to get a eye exam to Charleston vision source. Now I highly recommend avoiding them. In good faith I gave them my insurance information, believing that they would tell me if it was something that they did not take or if it was something that would be a problem. So I had my eye exam done. Then, while I was hurting from the eye dilation, they tell me that I owe $240 …and that my insurance is out of network for them. So I ask about payments. Am told that they only take full amount. And I would not be allowed my prescription until I paid it. So I told them to charge my insurance company. Then I came home and called the…

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Trying out her wings

TheFeatheredSleep – Words with wings


Pain killers did not play a part in my death


Featured, light fizuring definition, as star

You captured my appetite in a jar

Left it to pickle sour

We dissected my heart and ate slivers

Outside, like a fevered tongue

Merrymakers ran and dragged

Confetti and plastic cups of eels

Young girls with birthing stretch marks, shaking double chins

If they had three lifetimes it would still not be enough

To celebrate their unfolding life of cards

Queen of Hearts, she sat watching oragami crowds

Easier to be cloud cover, sensing rain in the air

The quiet of needing to say nothing, emptied of small talk

She didn’t need to ever attend a party again

That was another version of her out there in time

Straining to be a light bulb

Her long dangling line

Fishing for fragments of who she had been

How did a wizz, bang, bang…

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The End of the Tunnel

Stephanie Bennett-Henry – That light – an end or a beginning? – Promise or threat? Safer to stay in familiar dark?

Stephanie Bennett-Henry

I try to picture the end of the tunnel. If there’s light there or just a dim glow from what almost was. I close my eyes because the answer hurts too much to feel. I have always been good at looking away from things that can never be mine. Dodging the light as though it won’t see me to shine on me. Plugging my ears to drown out the answers that threaten my heart’s peace. But here I am anyway, standing in the road, waiting to see a glimpse of anything at all. Maybe I will lock eyes with hope, Grab hold of it and run while refusing to ever let go. Or maybe I will just let it move right past me like I was never here with this heart. Save it from the burden of having to read the stories in my eyes, so it doesn’t feel obligated…

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Crystalline Memory

Christine Ray remembers dissolved boundaries.

Brave & Reckless

We fell into memory

like sea salt

into soup pot

crystalline structure

losing integrity


into warm liquid

like the bath water

you would pour me

delicately scented

with lavender oil

when we belonged to each other

we would lie close

skin to skin on long winter nights

under thick blankets

and our boundaries would dissolve

like foam on our tongues

© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All Rights Reserved

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Requiem in Red- Aurora Phoenix

At Sudden Denouement, Aurora Phoenix brings a composition of cutting truth.

Sudden Denouement Collective

she etched an elegy

for herself

in her arm.

it was not that she wished she were dead,

it was that in her heart, she already was

with each draw of the blade

she eased mournful notes

skillful as a virtuoso violinist

from her love-starved skin.

this one, scratched doleful in minor D

laments a childhood forlorn

lost in the tumbleweeds

of mother’s hypodermic windstorm.

tentative lacerations mimic

the rent fabric of comfort

in which she was never swaddled.

that one, carved in hesitant desperation

released a cacophony of hushed howls

an orchestra of screeching duduks

protesting the predators’ parade

that prowled unguarded through her dreams

         day and night. –

cuts, breaking your heart if not

her parched and thirsting skin

berate the moon and sun

who sheltered her not, while each

beseeches the silent heavens

“was I not worthy of protection?”


she proffers her arm, bared

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Incels’ Delusions of Inadequacy

Calico Jack explores the “Incel” problem.

The Psy of Life

The incels — involuntarily celibate for the initiated — have an ass backwards view of the world. I’m not just saying that because it’s true, either. I’m saying it because it’s true, if you know what I mean. Here, let me try and summarize their backassward views (I’m cribbing liberally from a Voxarticle, by the way):

Because of the sexual revolution, all women will only have sex with the ideal male. Incels refer to this ideal male as Chad as in, They only want Chads. Apparently, Chads are the quintessential Marlboro Man-types rugged good looks coupled with testosterone powered sex appeal. Because women now have aspirations of attaining sexual gratification with what would’ve been unattainable men before the sexual revolution, they, the non-ideal men, can no longer get laid.

Wow. What?

They see this as a new problem. Before the sexual revolution, men could manage and control women…

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Still born

TheFeatheredSleep – A time gone by. A grief remaining.


Thirty years

And still I miss

The feeling of you beneath me

I don’t have the dignity

Of turning the other cheek

For, looking in a shining piece of tin

See the scar upon my face, you hammered with

Your foolish words I chose to give an audience to

As we sat, me pregnant with your folly, you bursting to clear the table of guests

And press me right there, eating my Sunday best

It is easy to say .. you sated your evil tendencies

But I was laced tight, a willing dance partner

Throwing myself down your stairwell

Catching the foil stars you hurled

Wanting to pin you to sky

And you, watching clocks for the next dumb girl to pass by

I measured myself in inches and circumference

Not the length of love but its endurance

Which you stretched like new prophelactic, over my molting form

As I…

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The road

TheFeatheredSleep – Endurance, Persistence, Blooming


At first the road seemed seemed impassable

Such a long distance with no sighted end

90 pounds was

A hollow eyed effigy, struggling not to drown

100 pounds was

A sickened mouth, forcing itself to swallow and chew

110 pounds was

A hunger to gain lost appetite, swill of food laying heavy with each urged step

120 pounds growing muscle

Punching the fuck out of weakness and despair

125 the goal, she fought, her joints bloody and plastered together

When she arrived, her body, her mind, her vibrating soul, she stood and cried

At the distance she’d travelled, cracked knuckles captured in dried clay

Stretching like bad memories, bleached by unrelenting sun

In spite of this, still, a flower is able to bloom

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