Raw Earth Ink
spit, mixed with dirt – muddy words flow
Pretty Words for Ugly Thoughts
On my knees I lapped up your attentions like a dog that hadn’t drank in a month
I suppose I should’ve seen the kick coming before it did but the glitter in my eyes blinded me to the truth of you
To top it off, I sat right back up and begged you to stay, to hold me, to give me another chance
All those dreams I had, me and you disappearing into the sunset hand in hand
You casually tossed them to the floor, twisted them beneath your heel, turned and walked away
Maybe these are just pretty words for ugly thoughts, because now I’m just a dog, sitting and staring, waiting for the one she loves to return
tara caribou | ©️2018
*please remember, this work has nothing to do with or about or towards the blogger mentioned, simply that I used their blog name/title/tagline as a writing prompt.
Thanks, B. Here’s #mygifttoyou
I absolutely adore the way you are so real, holding nothing back, open and honest in all your self-loathing and need to bury the pain and beauty beneath your Ativan and applesauce. The way you make no apologies, just: hey, this is me. Like it or leave. That. Right there. I wish there was more of that in this world. ~tara
13 Comments on “Pretty Words for Ugly Thoughts”
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Raw Earth Ink 
These tributes to your friends are great. Keep them coming.
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The title did pull me in, and i liked the dog biscuit bite of musings. Nice piece.
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Thanks Mark. I do love his blog title!
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You, my friend, are special to me in ways I can’t yet convey. I’m honored to be a part of your blog.
And as always, amazing post. You have much prettier words.
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Ha! Can we agree to disagree on this?? My words feel a fourth-grader’s attempt, compared to yours.
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Nooooooo your poems and prose are amazing! I wish I could write eloquently like you–everything I write is scrambled, on the verge of nonsensical.
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Funny, because when I read what you post, it always makes sense to me. I told you: I see you.
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Fuck, and I believe you, Tara. I feel like JP, from Grandma’s Boy, hiding behind my duster jacket, against the wall, saying, “How did they see me.”
That’s such a random reference, and if you know it, I’ll love you forever haha.
Thanks T, you’re awesome.
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Yep. Now let’s listen to some Portishead and trance out with some good Alaska bud.
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Oy, my kind of night…I hate myself for a lot of reasons, but missing Portishead the last time they played–prob their last time here ever–in Berkeley is in my top ten worst decisions.
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….yeah…. that’s fucking lame!!! Boo!!
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Way cool. Also… what a cool handle. Pretty Words for ugly thoughts.
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I agree. I love his blog name.
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